VampVerse
by runephoenix6769
Summary: AU..In 1600'S Basque, Santana Lopez is a simple girl from a sleepy town who wishes for excitement and adventure. Little does she know that a chance meeting with an hypnotic stranger will change the course of her life... Original Fic... Not following any particular vampire lore. Trigger warnings for vamp violence, gore,
1. Chapter 1

Ladies and Gents, and faithful followers. Here's an idea I had for a Vamp fic .. This came from a discussion with BetTheDuckIsinTheHat about vampire fictions in general .

Its going to take place over a number of years and in a number of different countries.

There's Wolves, Witches and all the supernatural stuff we love

Hope you enjoy

**Ps. My vamps shall not "shine like a god damn diamond" **

(and so help me god if any of you ask) ; P

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

X

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Spain 1670 . . Give or take but Brittany isn't counting. Basque region….. She thinks. _

X

She had smelt her before she had seen her.

That spicy sweet aroma, titillating her senses, had brought her screaming from her slumber, and it had taken all her resolve, plus a fear of acute sunburn, not to claw her way out of the cosy wooden box that, for the next while at least, was home.

She had lain, attentively, listening to the smoky voice that reminded her of the parlours of the land of the Orient, where everybody had oddly shaped eyes and tasted, well simply put for want of a better word, musty!

The words she did not know but the emotion behind them called to her.

Cursing at how inconsiderately loud the worms were being as they burrowed through the damp earth. She strained to hear more.

Not a few feet away, her dam lay, the tendrils of the older vampire's thoughts creeping into her own.

If she could smell her, surely she could too.

Quite proudly, she managed to squirrel away _that _particular thought

Her Mistress was not cruel, per say, from what she had told her of the antics of her new brethren, she was quite the lady. Nevertheless, it niggled her that quite rudely she crashed into her thoughts, delving into the hidden passageways of her mind, demanding to know why she was causing such a ruckus.

She had passed it off, assuring her it was nothing. Charlotte had grumbled at her and commanded her to sleep. Of course, she had obeyed, it wasn't as if she was in any position to do otherwise.

X

That night she had been woken by her Mistress who had taken her to a large town nearby. Negotiating with the notary for the use of his rooms and books, under the guise of wishing to continue her 'daughter's' studies, they had began the arduous task of teaching her the local language and foreign words.

She had told her that even though she was proud of young-lings ability of being able to project her wants and desires into their feeble little minds without speaking, it tended to make the sheep a little nervous and a flock on the brink of panic could very easily turn into an enraged mob.

It stood to reason that it would be a good idea to pay attention to these boring lessons if she wished to live in the foreseeable future.

It never failed to surprise her how swiftly a group of dumb, simple farmers could mobilise themselves into a semblance of an army and all those seemingly innocent appliances of sickles and scythes, that just so happened to be conveniently lying around, could be suddenly fashioned into garish weapons of death.

The pitchforks she did not mind so much but the flaming torches always made her smell funny.

On returning her to humble abode she had noticed how that spicy sweet smell lingered near a beautifully carved angel, that stood like a sentinel, watching over a freshly covered grave.

Not quite understanding the words etched into the stone, she had asked her maker to translate.

It simply stated.

In memory of

Maria Lopez.

Loving Wife and Mother.

X

As she waited to see if her Songbird, as she affectionately referred to her, would return, she mulled over many things.

Like the nature of her rebirth.

In a country ravaged by famine and war, her dam had taken pity on her or so she claimed, by offering her a better life. In kind, she had promptly turned that pity upon her parents, making sure to drain them completely because who in their right mind wanted their parents with them forever.

Had she felt guilty?

Maybe for the first decade or so. And maybe she shouldn't have chased them across the corn field in the fashion that she had, but when she really thought about it, it had been their own fault. She had been hungry and when they ran, she found she had not been able to help herself.

She had done them a huge favour in the long run, what with the plague and all.

Being from the northern regions of France, Charlotte had seen fit to re name her Brittany, not that she minded, she had never liked her own name anyways, and had opened her eyes to so many new experiences she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams.

However, that did not stop her from hating her Mistress and revelling in the guilty pleasure of somehow being able to keep her thoughts of Songbird all to herself.

X

Over the next few weeks, she grew accustomed to the comings and goings of the girl she only knew by smell and sound. She would twitch and fidget within the confines of her casket in anticipation of the familiar footfalls and steady heartbeat that heralded her arrival.

Next would come Brittany's favourite part.

Whilst she placed fresh flowers and tended to the up keep of Maria Lopez's final resting place, she would start to sing.

X

Her change in behaviour did not go unnoticed by her maker.

She had lost her concentration in the middle of a feed when the over whelming scent of her daily visitor, well maybe not _her_ visitor, but a girl could dream, wafted from deep within the narrow, twisting alleys of the town.

She had, momentarily, loosened her grip on their terrified quarry, intent on following that sumptuous aroma to its very source until Charlotte wrapped her ice-cold feelers round her thoughts and _squeezed_.

She wished to punish her further but instead she had promptly snapped the whimpering young mans neck before dumping his corpse in the river and demanded to know what on earth could have been so important to cause the young-ling to run the risk of exposure by almost allowing him to slip away. .

She had dutifully answered that she had found something to her liking and she could do with the practice.

And in Brittany's case, she really needed it.

It would help avoid problems in the future, much like the fiasco that had occurred in Paris.

She shuddered as she remembered the awkward situation of being caught with a limp girl in her arms and evidence of her dinner all over her face.

A novice mistake and half the reason they had been forced to move on.

In her defence, the girl had flaunted it, asking her if she wanted to catch a drink and a ravenous Brittany could hardly be blamed for taking her quite literally. Besides what kind of idiot ran round the streets of the city in the middle of the night especially after all the warnings about a Ripper frequenting the area.

Putting it down to the impulsiveness of youth and a wish to play with her food, Charlotte herself having grown weary of such games centuries beforehand, she indulged her, giving her permission to pursue her prize.

And so she had begun.

X

Never had she wished for the coming of nightfall so much in her existence. She had tossed and turned, finding the six flimsy boards that surrounded her stifling.

Her Mistress told her to shut up and that she was making enough noise to wake the dead.

She had laughed at the irony.

As soon as she felt the sun set, she had burst from her coffin, brimming with the excitement of a child, setting off in search of the one she craved.

Following the rich fragrance from her neighbour Maria, down the path and into the bustle of the town, she had found herself outside the a grand house. Hidden in a shroud of darkness she had waited, watching the comings and goings of the town's folk, until finally the door opened and a cloaked figure, with lantern in hand, slipped out onto the thoroughfare.

Songbird.

She would recognise that heady incense any where.

She had cautiously shadowed the girl. She was smaller than she imagined and moved with speed and agility that surprised her.

She thought she was doing rather well until they arrived at the vacant town square and the smaller girl stopped abruptly.

She had removed her hood to reveal long, dark locks that cascaded down her back, turning to peer back the way she had come.

In the moonlight, she could see the girl was truly beautiful. She had caramel skin that begged to be tasted and plump full lips that begged to be kissed.

The velvet voice snapped her from her thoughts.

"I know you're following me! Show yourselves!"

She restrained herself repeating the mantra of her Mistress. Control is key to survival.

"I swear to god Hudson, if that is you ill give you a thick ear."

Normally she would have cleared the distance between then in one leap, tearing out the throat of such a decadent feast, savouring every precious last drop of sweet nectar it would surely hold, but instead she found herself taking a tentative step forward.

Usually Brittany could see everything about a human but this one was shrouded in secrets and it intrigued her.

Her raspy voice held no hint of fear at being faced with a stranger.

"You're not Hudson."

"No I am not."

Everything about the girl assaulted her senses. The heartbeat she had only ever heard, muffled, through layers of dirt was suddenly loud, clear and so deliciously inviting.

She had approached her and had been startled when the girl did not cower but brazenly stood her ground.

They stood nose to nose, to what seemed like, to the young-ling, eons, wide, dark eyes staring straight back at her.

Hypnotically, the smaller girl's chest rose and fell with every breath she took. Brittany registered a pang of jealousy.

"Songbird."

"Who ar…"

She had leaned down, taking those thick plump lips in her own, enjoying residual taste of dinner wine that lingered upon them. She slipped out her tongue to be met with the warmth and wetness of the other girls as they danced back and forth. The moan she received caused her to throb and bite down ever so slightly.

The tanned girls hands found their way to her hair, wrapping in her tresses, drawing her deeper

That's when she tasted it.

That one tiny drop.

Suddenly images of them writhing, naked together, calling for each other in ecstasy flashed across her mind in quick succession causing her to reel.

It was not here.

It was not even now.

It was somewhere else.

She could feel it and it _burned!_

She was sure if she had any in her lungs, she would be breathless.

"Who _are_ you?"

"Santana." Came the whispered reply.

It broke the spell and Brittany had done the only thing she could.

Leaving the girl in the middle of the square, she turned on her heel and fled.

If she had taken a moment to collect herself, she would have noticed the eyes of another.

X

The next day her songbird did not come.

Instead, she was greeted with the sound of shovels cutting into the soft turf. For a moment she had panicked, thinking she had they had been discovered, but she had relaxed when she realised that the noise was coming from far over.

When she awoke she was met with a fresh hole beside that of her neighbour.

Such was the frailty of mortals.

She did not confide with Charlotte what had occurred and she was oddly comforted when her Mistress did not press or bully her way into gaining any details

She did not seek out Santana that night, choosing instead to take to the fields and help herself to a lonely Shepard.

X

Wails of grief and the soft thud of earth upon wood had dragged her from her slumber.

Groaning at being so rudely awoken, not that she needed sleep but sometimes it was nice to dream of the sun upon her face and the rolling meadows of her youth, she had pulled her pillow over her ears.

Charlotte had commanded her to sleep and for once, she had not loathed being told what to do.

That night something had felt different.

Something that had pressed against her, causing her skin to tingle and something inside her to ache.

Her Mistress had told her to make haste.

Some idiot had alerted the natives to their existence by breaking the cardinal rule of outlying towns.

"Always take peasants or those that wouldn't be missed. Never feast on someone of importance."

Brittany had assured her dam, it had not been her.

Before leaving, she had made her way to Maria's grave and had seen the new addition filled in beside her.

Illness had been rife in the town.

She had left on the head stone a small bouquet, weighed down with a pebble, hoping the next time Santana came, she would notice.

She had sensed it again. Goose bumps had appeared on her skin.

It was sheer unadulterated rage.

And it rolled through the earth in waves!

X

**Please read and review and let me know what you think so far.. **

.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys and dolls. I would just like to say ive been rather surprised how many follows and faves this fic has received in such a short time.

Thank you to you all

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

My own vampire lore.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Spain. 1670. Basque region. .. Well she better be. _

X

She had awoken to pitch darkness, you know the sort, the type you found only deep in the countryside, that enveloped you and had a thick texture you could bite.

She blinked a few times just to make sure that by some cruel twist of fate she hadn't in actual fact gone blind.

"Nope." She thought to herself, "Definatly not blind."

She registered she was led flat on her back and the surface underneath was hard and unforgiving. It bit into her ass and her shoulder blades. She shifted uncomfortably, her knuckles grazing against rough timber.

What the hell?

Kicking her heels, she heard the dull thud. Fumbling in the dark, she felt her surroundings.

She was in a box.

An oddly familiar shaped box!

Being buried alive was one of her greatest fears, that, and paper cuts on her eyes.

She began to panic.

"Oh my God! Oh God! No no no no no NO! OH GOD!"

She shoved her palms out in front of her, hard, the timber splintered like kindling. She clawed her way through the loose earth, tearing back the sheet that covered the hole and hauled herself onto the solid loam above. She crawled as far as she could until she collapsed face first into the ground.

Her stomach twisted, excruciatingly. Retching, she raised herself on her hands and knees, her raven hair falling around her face like a veil. Her fingers dug into the tender, damp earth as she heaved the contents onto the grass.

Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she thought,

Classy Lopez. Real classy.

Falling back on her haunches, she let out a low moan. The brightness of the night hurt her eyes and everything was so damn loud. She swore she could hear the grass growing and the rapid heartbeats of the small woodland creatures that burrowed deeper into their nests.

She felt hung-over.

She wondered if she had gotten rip-roaring drunk, as she was want to do, and Hudson had played some terribly distasteful prank.

She was going to make him rue the day he was ever born!

She drew her tongue over her teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit and winced when she nicked the tip of it. Perplexed, she gingerly drew her thumb over her incisors and canines.

Yes, there it was, two of them were definatly longer and sharper.

She huffed pensively into the crisp night and realised that no mist had appeared. She breathed onto her cold hand, just to be sure. When no droplets formed, she hurriedly checked her pulse at her wrist. Finding none, cold tendrils crept up her spine as the realisation slowly dawned on her.

She was dead!

But evidently she wasn't.

She racked her brains. She remembered the strange girl with hair spun like gold, skin that reflected the moonlight and hypnotic, bright blue eyes that sparkled as she imagined the King's Crown Jewels to shine.

She distinctly remembered a kiss that had caused her body to fizzle and pop.

She had stood, stunned, and when she had come to her senses the mysterious stranger had vanished.

There was something else. Something that hung at edge of her memories like a cobweb caught on her face, she could feel it but she could not see it. Every time she reached out, it peskily blew from her grasp only to return to tickle and taunt her.

Her ears pricked as two voices drifted towards her.

They spoke English, a language she knew she had never learned but some how she strangely understood as if it was second nature.

The first was deep and the second was smarmy, haughty and instantly annoying.

"I don't understand why you turned her!"

"Mr Lynn, don't you worry your pretty little head over such details."

"She looks like trouble!"

"That tiny little thing shall be no trouble at all. As you know I am the undisputed Puppet Master!"

"We don't need another seductress. What we need is Brittany!"

Wait a second, were they talking about her?

She was not a harlot! A flirt yes, a tease maybe, it wasn't her fault she was flawless and had many suitors, but a harlot she was not!

She took offence to that. No in fact, she took the fence, the gate and the whole Goddamn meadow!

Who did they think they were?

The smarmy voice continued,

"In 30 odd years how close have we come, hmmm? We are always one-step behind, and how long until that old babbage Charlotte loses control of her completely? At least this way we can sit back and relax."

"Sebastian, I don't understand."

"You saw what happened! It may take a decade or so but once she senses her, and trust me she will, she shall come looking for her and when she does, I'll be waiting. Until then I have the perfect use for our Latin acquisition. And I would prefer to be in the comfort of my own home rather than traipsing across the Continent.

"Who will come? Charlotte?"

"No, her offspring, you oaf." There was a pause, "Nobody can ever say I turned you for your superior intellect."

Sebastian?

Lynn?

Those names rang a bell. Slowly her memories began to filter through.

Once she had broken from her stupor, she had picked her way to the bustling local tavern, demanding of the barkeep a flagon of mead just to calm her nerves. She had spoken to Hudson and a few others, enjoying the odd tipple here or there. She had gone to the bar to order another and had rather loudly asked if the mystical blonde had taken lodgings there, being it was the only boarding house she could think of in her drunken state and the girl obviously wasn't a native.

She had found her answer in two gentleman hidden within the dark recess of an alcove. One in an officer's uniform and the other dressed like some low ranking noble. They were both devilishly handsome, enough to make a girl swoon, if you were into that sort of thing.

She hadn't thought it strange as such people tended to pass through all the time, thinking it was the perfect place to sow some wild oats before buggering off of back to where it was they came from.

There were plenty of Fatherless children running around

Who was she to judge and begrudge someone of their entertainment?.

Sebastian, the one with the air of faux nobility and the sly voice had told her that the blond was a friend of theirs and they knew where she was staying and they would accompany her if she liked.

Against her better judgement she had left with them, when she thought about the Lynn person _had _been staring at her like a pot roast, she had unsteadily clambered into their awaiting carriage.

That's when things became a bit blurry.

She had just experienced the most mind-blowing kiss of her entire life and then promptly died.

Now she understood that curiosity had most certainly killed the cat.

What kind of an asshole did that to a girl?

She was confused, grubby and in dire need of a drink. Needless to say, Santana Lopez was pissed and there would be hell to pay.

She shook her head, dislodging grains of dirt from her dark, thick hair and wiped the excess mud from her petticoats. At least her Father had had the good sense to bury her in her Sunday best.

"Ah," came the annoying voice, "I see you are awake!"

The young man wearing a dark blue jacket and white breeches, she recognised as Sebastian, swung himself around her Mothers carved angel as if caressing a dancer.

"Get down! Have you no respect for the dead?" She demanded.

He chuckled darkly,

"Ryder, did you hear that? The one has a sense of humour!"

She could hear a high-pitched giggle from the shadows. Sebastian jumped down from the monolith with a grace that made him seem like he was floating.

"What have you done to me?" She growled.

Sebastian smiled, his pointy white teeth shining in the moonlight. It reminded Santana of the animals she had seen in one of the cages of a passing merchant.

Hyenas! That's what they were called.

He circled her at a distance, replying,

"I have, how shall we say, giving you an opportunity!"

"You Murdered me is what you did!"

"Come now Miss Lopez, I did no such thing! What sort of lady climbs into a carriage with two strange men if she is not looking for a little excitement?"

Enraged Santana launched herself from the ground and lunged for him in one fluid, swift move, screaming,

"I'LL KILL YOU."

She was a fraction of an inch from his throat when he commanded,

"Stop!"

She came to an abrupt halt. It was as if she had been punched full force in the chest and ran into a brick wall. Her muscles strained, bulging and contorting as she willed them to move, to reach out that last tiny bit.

She almost had him. She pushed harder.

White-hot searing pain tore her limb from limb, like knives heated in a furnace. She doubled over, howling. He continued circling her prone form,

"See what happens when you disobey!"

"Damn she's fast! I thought she had you for a second." Lynn added from a top his seat on the corner of her Mother's, and now her own, headstone.

She glared at Sebastian with murder in her eyes. He smirked back at her,

"Almost but not quite," He poked her roughly in the head, "Sit down and shut up!"

Her legs buckled, as if she had them kicked from beneath her, depositing her onto the hard ground. She tried to open her mouth to speak but the words refused to form

He had commanded and she had heeded lie a flea bitten dog. He crouched down so he was inches from her face,

"Look at her, Ryder! Teeth gnashing and eyes rolling like a deranged mutt." He trailed his fingers along her jawbone, tilting up her head so he could stare straight into her eyes. He lowered his voice, tweaking her cheeks like he would an infant," I bet you wish you could throttle me don't you? Yes you do! Yes you do!"

She wanted to drive her thumbs into his eyes and tear out his throat. She wanted to stomp on him, listening to the sweet sound of his bones cracking underfoot and keep going till she ground them down to dust.

His voice became silky smooth, as if offering a sweet,

"Would you like a drink? I bet you're thirsty aren't you?"

She held fast, simmering with rage.

"Answer me!" He screamed.

Humiliated, she nodded.

"Well somebody has to learn her lesson. No feeding do you hear. For at least 3 days."

He stood up wandering over to his companion where he wiped his fingers on Ryder's shoulder, who was nonchalantly picking dirt from his finger nails with a pocket knife. He waved it in her direction.

"She's fiery that one!"

"She most certainly is and that's why I'm going to enjoy every delicious moment of breaking her."

The sound of wooden wheels crunching against loose stones caught their attention.

"Ah!" Sebastian exclaimed, brightly, "Our carriage awaits!"

Clambering to her feet her eyes landed on the small bouquet of flowers wedged between the sculptured sandals of the ever-watchful guardian. The smell of dewy spring mornings wafted towards her.

How had she not noticed it before?

She savoured it, knowing it was something she would never experience again.

Suddenly bright blue eyes, an innocent smile and a searing kiss flashed across her mind.

The girl!

Brittany he had called her. She would sense her. But _why? _

She quickly snatched up the petite bunch of flowers, twisting a thick blade of grass around them and shoved them into the top of her dress.

"Come along Miss Lopez," Sebastian commanded once more "It won't do to have you out past sunrise. Well not until we have had a little fun at least!"

With reluctance, Santana did the only thing she could.

She obeyed.

X

**P.s Hope you enjoy.. Please read and review n tell me what you think **


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys and dolls. I would just like to say ive been rather surprised how many follows and faves this fic has received in such a short time.

Thank you to you all

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Again do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Spain. 1670. She doesn't care, away from here._

X

Santana lay on her side, huddled as best she could, in her casket wishing it were bigger so she could bring her knees to her chest and curl in on herself. She could feel every bump and rut in the road vibrating through the wheels as the cart trundled over the landscape. The only comfort she had from the constant jostling was a doubled over blanket and a velvet pillow. It was marginally better than her previous dwelling.

Ever present, Sebastian sat in her mind, poised like a plump spider. The intrusion felt like an embedded thorn and any attempt to remove it only drove it deeper. He held her in a constant state of torment, not quite asleep but not quite awake, just enough to dream.

They had been spirited away after sunrise. She was relieved they had left, knowing in her cold, lifeless heart, it had become a place she would never wish to return.

She took nothing from the place she had once affectionately called home, save for a small bouquet of flowers from a stranger and the nightmares of her crimes.

Ryder, the mooncalf as she had come to think of him, had taken great joy in telling her that you never forget your first and now she knew first hand, that he was right, she would _never_ forget.

Their high-pitched screams and once angelic faces contorted into ghoulish masks of horror would haunt her for the rest of her unnatural life.

X

The first night the thirst had been manageable, she would even go so far as to say tolerable, the second not so much.

She had trembled and shook, her stomach knotting and wrenching as every fibre of her being, from the nails of her toes to the very tips of her new fangs craved sustenance.

Every small sound of her surroundings had been magnified. The carts on the cobbles, the voices of the people that she used to know, the thunder of the livestock heading to market. But most of all it was the rhythmic heart beats and the steady swish of the life source that pulsed through their veins, that resonated with her most.

She had flung herself from her coffin in the basement, out of the backdoor and onto the rolling, crisp lawn of the Martinez property Sebastian and Lynn had some how acquired the use of for the duration of their stay.

She had snaked her hand out and snatched from the grass an unsuspecting rabbit. She had tried to sink her fangs into the succulent flesh and whimpered in frustration when she could not close her mouth round the creature's prone throat. The white-hot pain had returned. He had caught her by the hair, close to her scalp where it hurt the most.

"Call me your Master and I shall allow you to drink." He had cajoled.

She had glared at him in defiance. Enraged he had slapped her face over and over before growing bored

She had endured, pushing herself between the yearning to feed and the agony whilst the snivelling little weasel and the mooncalf had watched on in amusement.

They had cavorted around her, snickering and jeering, pushing her roughly and prodding her with their feet.

She had boiled!

In defeat she had let the creature go collapsing in the grass and sobbing from want.

They had left her there, to hunt themselves but not before commanding she, stay put. She spent the night with glass beneath her skin, rocking back and forth whilst she dug her nails into her scalp, tearing at her hair.

The pain some how had soothed her need.

They had cruelly returned with a tasty snack she recognised in the form of Molly the swineherds daughter. They had enjoyed their feast in front of her whilst she could do no more than watch, famished and filled with a longing hunger.

X

The third night, delirious with thirst and unable to withstand the aching any longer she had given in, begging and pleading to feed.

The words tasted like shit in her mouth and she loathed herself for uttering them but her desperation surpassed it.

"You are my Master."

He had laughed and asked her patronizingly,

"See, was that so hard?"

It had been. It had almost taken her last shred of dignity but she had been so thirsty, she had let it slide.

Sebastian had told her for being such a good girl she deserved a treat. He had opened a small vial, smearing it on his fingers before shoving them harshly in her nostrils.

It had all gone down hill from there. If she could see her reflection, she would not be able to meet her own eyes.

She had grunted and snuffled like a swine, inhaling the intoxicating aroma. It had coursed through her, setting her ablaze.

She had needed more!

She had been about to suck his fingers clean when he had stopped her with a caress of her cheek, she had whined.

Santana Fucking Lopez had whined like a bitch in heat.

"Hush now Santana," He had crooned. "I have something extra special in mind for you."

X

Before she knew what was happening she had arrived outside a familiar door. Inside she had heard three small, soft heartbeats coming from within. Something had tugged at the back of her mind.

She ignored it. It had no place here.

Sebastian had given her another taster, driving her wild, he had leaned forward and whispered in her ear in that tone she could not refuse,

"Feed Santana and enjoy yourself."

Ryder had banged upon the door then retreated to the shadows with his Master to sit back and enjoy the show.

A small boy, no more than 6, with a mop of dark mussy curls and sleepy chocolate brown eyes had opened the door. The fire in the hearth had cast a warm glow into the room, illuminating the space, a little girl, cocooned in a shirt that belonged to an adult had hovered on the stairs staring at her agape.

"Marco, Marco, Sanny's back from the angels!" She had exclaimed excitedly, running back up the stairs.

The little boy had beamed at her, taking her icy hand in his tiny warm one, tugging on it,

"Come on Sanny, Come in and show Marco your home."

That is all it took. Entranced by the sweet smell of innocence she stepped over the threshold and into oblivion.

She had grasped the fragile neck of the small boy, sinking her teeth into tender flesh. The sanguine fluid had showered her at first, and then she had steadied the flow by taking a long hard draft. The warm, viscous, sumptuous liquid, tantalizingly tinged with fear, hit the back of her throat in spurts.

She could not register much except the intense feeling of euphoria that broke against her in waves. She had not stopped until she had drained each one of their lives, leaving their small, broken bodies on the harsh stone floor.

She had looked up to meet the horrified eyes of her Father, stood in the doorway. Smiling she had basked in the chaos and carnage she had caused.

"Hola Papi."

He had fallen to his knees letting out a long, low moan. She had relished in his grief. He had not struggled when Ryder and Sebastian had grabbed him; instead he had accepted his fate. They drank their fill, snapping his neck like a twig before tossing him through the door to join the lifeless corpses of his children, their eyes wide open and unseeing.

It had all been so breath takingly beautiful, she had been overwhelmed with joy.

Sebastian and Ryder had said she had been a glorious sight to behold, she was a natural and she would make them very proud.

She had preened

Her thirst slated and deeply satisfied, she had followed her two cohorts back to the safety of their lodging and had fallen into a deep peaceful slumber only experienced by the dead.

It wasn't until much later, when she had come down from her high that the gravity of what she had done really hit her.

She had tossed brave Marco like a rag doll, dashing him against the wall when he had attacked her with a poker trying to protect his younger brother. She had not cared when she heard his skull crack and had quivered in delight when she saw the grey matter peeking from within. She had pounced on him, like a cat on a mouse, ripping his jugular, taking large gulps before his heart gave out. She had returned to a wheezing Phillip, slurping and licking every drop.

Leaving dear, sweet Esperansa until last.

Her screams as she cowered in the corner wide eyed had only driven Santana on. She had taken her gently, rocking her as if she was soothing her to sleep.

Santana could still smell the urine on her petticoats.

She had howled and clawed at her skin. What she had done was sacrilege.

Filled with revulsion, guilt and shame she had attempted to walk out into the dawn.

Her sire had commanded her to stop. He had stroked her hair and taken a handkerchief to her face, cleaning her with tenderness, he had purred,

"I do not do this out of spite; I have done this out of true affection. You are beginning to learn the rules and I cannot allow you to starve, so I give you a gift. A gift you earned. I gave you a last Goodbye"

Twisting from his repulsive grasp, she had wept only to find her face was once again bathed in the blood of her victims.

**X**

**P.s Please review and tell me what you think.. I know it was a bit of a heavy chap.. first time writing violence. **


	4. Chapter 4

First and for most I would like to make an apology. It has been brought to my attention that I should have given a trigger warning for the last chapter and its violent content.

I am sorry and I shall keep it in mind in the future.

Once again, I am over whelmed with the amount of faves and follows and the inquiring reviews

Thank you to you all

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Again they do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

VAMP VERSE

X

_Germany. Munich. 1680. Give or take a few years. _

X

She dangled her legs over the edge of the parapet, swinging them playfully, as she watched the bustle of the city far below.

The lanterns of the carriages dotted the streets like miniscule fire flies dancing in the late dusk. A damp, dense blanket of fog weaved amongst them, muffling and distorting the sounds of horseshoes upon stone and the cries of the cabbies calling out into the darkness in warning to pedestrians of their approach.

She turned to her companion, an intricately carved gargoyle, poking her fingers into the deep grooves of his forever-petrified grimace. She returned his expression, sticking out her tongue and baring her fangs.

A shift in the air behind her caught her attention. Her dam, Charlotte, glided over the flat rooftop, coming to rest a top a low chimneystack.

"I can hear you. What is the matter Honeybee?"

The youngling gripped the coarse, fat tongue of the statue, sighing,

"I was thinking."

Amused her Mistress replied, not unkindly,

"I can see that."

Something had been bothering the young vampire of late.

Images of vile grunting men, twisted bodies bathed in blood, a feeling of revulsion, wrapped up in an all-consuming anger, had been permeating into her sleep.

The only thing she recognised was the heavenly incense of one she had shared a kiss with, many moons ago.

"Come child."

It was a mere suggestion as the soft voice no longer held any sway over her.

Brittany obediently moved to sit beside her consort she had over the decades grown to cherish.

Charlotte clucked full of motherly love,

"Even after all these years, you are still a messy eater."

Brittany grinned at her impishly as the older vampire licked her thumbs and rubbed the corners of her mouth.

"There, all clean," She told her offspring, licking the excess from her fingertips, "Now, come tell Auntie Charlotte what is troubling you."

"I was thinking about the nature of love?" The youngling began, bashfully.

"Ah, have you grown weary of my company already?" She teased

"No! No! I adore you," Brittany rushed to reassure her. She could not bare the thought that Charlotte might think she did not appreciate everything she did for her, "You mean the world to me. I could never grow weary of you."

Charlotte lovingly stroked her offspring to sooth her woes.

"I know that sweetheart. Now tell me what it is you wish to know of the nature of love?"

She watched on in fondness as Brittany began to awkwardly twist the signet ring on her slender, tapered finger.

"I was wondering if you had ever experienced it?"

"Everyday," Charlotte assured, "I love each and every one of my children."

"I have brothers and sisters?" The young woman marvelled.

"Yes you do. And maybe one day you shall have the pleasure of meeting them" The older blond replied, brightly.

"Where are they?"

"All over the world." Charlotte told her, sweeping her pale hand in a grand gesture, wrapping her other arm around lithesome shoulders, "But that is not the love you speak of, is it little one?"

In embarrassment, Brittany nestled her face into the safe, familiar crook of her protector

"It is ok, I do not see it as a betrayal. There are many types of love and it normal that you would be curious. Such a tender of 19, I sometimes wonder if I took something from you?"

Rather than answer, the youngling looked up into the hazel eyes, flecked with luminous gold and jade green, of her dam, asking, inquisitively,

"Why do vampires turn people?"

Charlotte sighed, deeply,

"I knew this day would come."

Drawing Brittany closer, she settled herself, as if to begin an important lesson to a young audience.

"There are many reasons why we turn people. Some, out of loneliness, others for lust or love and for a select few, entertainment. You should never do the latter or any for that matter unless you are willing to take on the responsibility it entails."

"Another rule?" Brittany grinned.

"Precisely." Charlotte bopped her playfully on the nose, "You my sweet are so smart and one of the reasons why you are my proudest creation."

Smiling, Brittany gripped her bottom lip and crinkled her nose, swelling with pride.

The adorableness of the girl would damn near break her heart if she had one, the older woman thought to herself.

Her offspring began tracing the pattern of the stitching upon her dress, deep in thought.

"Why did you turn me?"

She simply, replied,

"You called to me."

There where many reasons as to why Charlotte had turned the young woman, besides the messy demise of her previous companion, but she had no wish to part such information.

Not quite yet.

There were rumblings on the grapevine of a power play at work, that threatened the intricate balance of the Houses and she wished to keep Brittany shielded from it until the last possible moment.

She waited patiently, watching Brittany's brow furrow as she contemplated what she had been told. Her offspring's mind was a labyrinth and having resided there on numerous occasions, she understood that it sometimes took Brittany a while to navigate the passageways before she arrived at her conclusion.

"What do you mean by responsibility?"

Charlotte took a moment trying to figure out the best way in which to explain without causing the young woman confusion. Satisfied she had it, she began,

"Out of respect for our own kind and to each other, we have a duty to teach our creations how to move in this world. That is why we are granted a level of control, to protect our existence, even though there are those that abuse that safe guard for their own ends."

Brittany nodded in understanding allowing it to sink in. She pursed her pink lips then asked,

"How do you mean. Protect our existence?"

Charlotte stroked a loose strand of hair out of Brittany's face, tucking it behind her ear as she replied,

"When a new vampire is created, for the first few decades it wants nothing more than to give in to it's desires and consume all around it. Do you remember when you took your first drink, how did you feel?"

She remembered how glorious it had been watching her new creation revel in the hunt. Maybe she should not have allowed Brittany to chase them in the way that she had, but the newborn had seemed to be enjoying herself so much and it had seemed quite cruel to stop her.

Brittany's soft voice, tinged with excitement brought her back to the present,

"I felt like a fox in a hen house."

She hugged the young woman closer,

"Beautifully put my sweet. Now imagine if someone let loose or had no control over a newborn?"

She felt Brittany shudder against her.

The older woman had heard troubling whispers of a tiny village in the Alps that had been decimated. What had been described had reminded Charlotte of times past, times that had no place being repeated

The world was becoming smaller and such behaviours would only draw attention and make it increasingly difficult for them to move.

Neither man nor beast had been spared. It had, by all accounts, been absolute carnage. Bodies had been torn limb from limb, others hanging from their insides, swinging from the rafters. It was obviously the work of a bloodthirsty pack or worse, a Rogue.

Charlotte had been glad, and she knew extremely lucky, that the blond had been a fast learner and had accepted the parameters she had instilled in her without complaint or question.

Yes, her hunting skills on occasion left a lot to be desired, sometimes becoming distracted and she had a tendency to toy with her food, but it was more out of playfulness rather than malicious cruelty.

Brittany's childlike fascination was one of the many things she had come to adore of the youngling. It was refreshing and something the circles she usually mingled within, lacked.

"Brittany, never treat them like cattle. Without them, we would not be able to survive. It is a delicate balance and if they become aware of us, they will hunt us. They maybe weaker than our kind but never underestimate them. They are able to move within the light where we are at our most vulnerable. Only take what you must."

"Control and restraint is the key to survival." The young blond repeated.

"Exactly!" Charlotte squeezed her tight against her and kissed her chastely on the crown, "I can tell in your eyes you have thoughts of another. Tell me of it."

"Well," Brittany began, nervously, "You know when I feed I sometimes get flashes of their lives and things like that?"

Charlotte nodded. It was an unfortunate by product of feeding. She had taught herself to ignore it. Experiencing all the emotions and being witness to how mortals treated each other had eventually become tiresome.

Brittany continued,

".It's like that, but it's different"

Charlotte had learned over the last bi century to pay attention to what the young blond said. She was keenly aware that the abilities that had begun to manifest in her offspring were not exactly normal. Many vampires could glamour their victims, in fact, it was quite commonplace, but the dreamscapes and level of enthrallment Brittany could create were something else entirely.

She had often wondered if Brittany would be able to apply it to their own kind. If it turned out that she could and the youngling ever figured out how to control it, she would be truly terrifying.

In this instance, the naturally sweet disposition of the girl would be a saving grace.

"Its like I'm there, seeing through their eyes. I can feel what they are feeling. It's weird!"

What Brittany was describing was beginning to sound eerily similar to a practice Charlotte knew the girl could not possible have any knowledge of.

It created a nigh unbreakable bond, completely different to the connection shared by a maker and their underling.

It was highly dangerous in the long run and usually never ended well.

Charlottes tone became grave and serious,

"Brittany, I need to ask you a question and I need you to answer me honestly. You shall not be in trouble, just as long as you tell me the truth. Do you understand?"

She looked into the wide innocent eyes of her prized companion, which even in the murky night shone like Sapphires on display.

"Have you _ever_ drank from another?"

"What like a person?"

"No, I mean another vampire?"

Brittany shook her head vigorously, causing her more of her gold spun hair to come loose,

"No, you're the only vampire I've met, well there was that fat guy once but he smelt funny."

Charlotte knew the youngster was being sincere.

"Calan smelt strange because he is a bottom feeder and drinks from rats. But unfortunately he happens to be a master of information."

Brittany snuggled closer to her Mistress as she murmured,

"I can smell her."

"Who, little one?"

"Songbird!" Brittany replied as if she expected her elder to know.

"Whose Songbird?" Charlotte asked, her interest piqued.

The youngling in her arms, offered,

"The girl from Basque. You know the one who used to sing to us everyday and smell really yummy."

Over the years, they had moved many places and drank from many people, they all began to blur together after a while.

It slowly came back to her, it was around the time her precious child had started to act strangely and it was the first time she had realised that Brittany was able to keep things from her. She gasped,

"That was over a decade ago!"

Brittany added,

"I kissed her and when I tasted her I saw us together in a different place."

She remembered the fresh grave, how the town had been up in arms over the death of one of their darlings. The unknown idiot who had broken the cardinal rule, causing the two women to flee with no preparation or certainty of safety. She had spent many an evening worrying whether she and her child would meet their demise.

"What do you mean, together?" Charlotte asked, hesitantly.

Brittany looked at her shyly, mumbling,

"Intimately."

The older vampire froze slightly, keeping her features stoic so as not to alarm the girl in her arms. Such things should not be possible and she knew Brittany did not have the ability of foresight.

This development troubled her and she began to ponder the true extent of Brittany's potential.

She was out of her depth and the sooner she brought her to Holly, the better.

X

**p.s Hope you like guys .. Please review and tell me what you think. If u have any questions don't hesitate to ask. I'll try to reply with ruining it for you. Thanks for reading.**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: The first few paragraphs contain images that may be disturbing to some readers.**

Once again, I am over whelmed with the amount of faves and follows and the inquiring reviews

Thank you to you all

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

VAMP VERSE

X

_1680, odd. She assumes. Somewhere in The Alps. She's not too sure anymore. _

X

Their pallid faces and milky blue, unseeing eyes of her countless victims stared back at her.

"Why Santana? Why?" Their hollow moans rasped, the weight of their agony and accusations pressing against her.

Bleached bone and grey flesh dripping hands reached out for her, pulling at her petticoats and hair. She slapped at them shrinking from their incessant grasp for fear, they would tear her apart.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She wailed back at them.

They continued to approach at a shuffle, their stares lifeless and unforgiving.

A girlish giggle, bubbling with malice caused her to turn. Her eyes alighted upon a childlike figure, hunched over, wearing an adult sized shirt smeared with rust coloured stains. Its bare feet kicked playfully as it held something that struggled upon its lap. With trepidation, she took a step forward and tentatively reached out a hand. The child turned and she found herself looking upon the face of dear, sweet Esperansa.

"Sanny, you're baack from the aaangels." The small figure sing songed, "I'll never see the angels, but its ok, I have lots of friends now, watch."

She watched on in horror as her little sister's face twisted into a ghoulish smile before sinking her teeth into the struggling puppy in her arms, tearing at its throat as it let out a high pitched whine of fear, its tiny legs scrabbling for purchase.

Santana backed away.

A ductile melody began to play. Her little sister approached her.

"Its ok Sanny,. Come and join us. They want to play too"

The smell of spring mornings mingled in with the acrid stench of rotten flesh became strong in her nostrils.

Maggots fell from the small girl's mouth and a fat centipede crawled from her empty eyes socket.

Santana let out a blood-curdling scream.

X

Opening her eyes, she was surrounded by a fine, white smoke that billowed around her. It looked fluffy, like the clouds of an afternoon sky, and soft to the touch. Every time she reached out, it danced from her grasp only to return and envelop her once more.

A rustling sound, like that of the trees ready to shed their summer plumage caught in an autumn gust, assaulted her from all directions. She spun in blind panic as the sound became louder, roaring in her ears.

Pinpricks of images began to form and the light smoke suddenly became awash with bright colours.

Thick, tall, stalks of grass, laden heavy with seed, appeared forthwith, surrounding her. Overhead, birds pin wheeled and called in a clear cerulean summer sky. She could feel the blazing heat of the bright Sun on her face, neck and shoulders.

She shrank down, cringing, holding up her hands in protection from the unforgiving rays, waiting for the inevitable. Her skin did not peel and she did not turn to flame.

In disbelief, she turned her hands, palm to back. Confused she stood up, patting the course light material of the brown ankle length skirt and the light off the shoulder white shirt.

The warm breeze whipped her dark hair and the midriff high stalks of grass danced before her, rolling like waves of the ocean.

Further, down the rolling meadow, she spied a brilliantly white, painted, thatched cottage, where wisps of smoke, lazily, escaped the chimneystack. The lowing of the cattle and the bleats of the sheep were carried on the winds.

She did not recognise the landscape but it felt oddly familiar.

It felt like home.

"Songbird! There you are!" She heard someone cry in rejoice.

She spun round, only to be tackled to the ground and a sudden crushing weight landing on top of her.

She blinked once more, to met the bright, blue piercing eyes and the innocent, beaming smile of one she had kissed over a decade ago.

"I've been looking for you ever where." The breathtaking beauty continued, "Mama says that even with your skin it isn't healthy to be out in the sun all day."

"It's you!" Santana whispered, almost to herself.

"Of course it is, silly! Who else did you expect to be up here?" The blond chided, playfully.

Santana could feel the warmth beneath her fingertips as she lightly traced the smattering of freckles across the bridge of the girl's nose and along her cheekbones, enjoying the way the girl relaxed into her touch.

"Where were you?"

"I don't know." Santana murmured back, "I felt like I was someplace else entirely."

The blond girl manoeuvred herself, pushing up the material of Santana's skirt, causing it to bunch round her thighs. She entwined their fingers, coffee against the stark contrast of cream, pinning Santana into the soft cushion of grass beneath.

The girl's light voice devilishly teased,

"Maybe this will bring you back."

The lithe girl leaned down, her gold spun hair falling around them like a curtain, shutting out the rest of the world.

Santana felt the air leave her lungs and her body tingle as she felt the soft, familiar lips being to suckle gently on her own.

She realised the slimy, heavy, stabbing pressure in her mind, the feeling she had grown accustomed to sitting there for as long as she could remember, had vanished to be replaced with a feeling of warmth and affection. Her chest swelled with it as she hungrily kissed the girl back.

"Brittany?" She breathed.

"Humm mm." Came the hummed response against her.

Electricity pulsed through her as their tongues met, tantalizingly dancing against each other, warm, wet and inviting. Feather light touches caressed her forearm, down along her collarbone, coming to rest upon her breast where the delicate hand, gently squeezed.

Santana wrapped her legs around strong, slender hips, her hand trailing down a femininely muscular back, pulling the girl flush against her.

She felt a trail of fleeting butterfly kisses along her jawbone, working their way down to her neck where the girl deliberately began to suckle and nip.

Throbbing, Santana let out a breathy moan, bucking her hips into the unresisting body above her.

"I love it when I find you in the fields." Brittany chuckled, against her.

The crisp, clear sound of a bell began to toll across the countryside.

"Dinner's ready!" The blond exclaimed.

Santana pouted, holding the girl steadfast, not wishing to let her go.

Brittany giggled, "We don't want it to get cold," planting light soft kisses all over her face, "We can roll around in the hay sharing sweet lady kisses later. I promise."

The blond scrambled to her feet, pulling Santana up beside her with an ease that should not be possible.

She immediately missed the contact as the blue-eyed beauty let go of her hand, taking off across the field.

"I bet you can't catch me!" She called, impishly. "I'm the gingerbread man!"

Santana took chase, the thick grass parting in her wake. They both bolted down the hillside in gales of laughter.

Brittany gracefully cleared the low wooden fence into the neatly tended garden whilst Santana slipped herself through the gate gasping for air, making sure to tie it securely.

A large, fat tabby cat ambled over to the blond and Santana watched on lovingly as Brittany hefted him up into her arms, crooning,

"Tubby say hello to Santana." Brittany waved one of the cat's paws, "We missed her didn't we?"

Tubby gave Santana a disinterested yawn.

"Ah Brittany, you found her." Said an older blond haired woman with shining hazel eyes, who leaned lazily against the doorjamb

Brittany put Tubby down, bouncing on the balls of her feet with pride,

"I did Mama!"

"Come now Santana, I made your favourite."

"Pincho?" Santana asked in confusion.

"No Rabbit you goose, we have it every Friday. Did you forget?." The woman smiled, not unkindly, "I sometimes wonder if Brittany's dreamy state is catching? Now go wash yourselves up, I won't have you trailing dirt into the house. By the way Santana, you have grass in your hair."

Santana flushed with embarrassment, Brittany tittered, cheekily as Santana attempted to smooth her dishevelled appearance.

Brittany began to turn the handle of the water pump vigorously until it gushed crisp, clear water into the bucket beneath. Santana sank her hands into the cool, refreshing jets, washing her face and hands before pulling the bottom of her shirt from its confines, flashing her stomach, and drawing it across her face.

"So hot!" Brittany took her left hand, raising it to her lips. Santana caught a brief flash of bright white fangs and a wolfish grin before Brittany bit down on her knuckles, _hard._

Santana yelped,

"What was that for?"

Brittany shrugged,

"No reason."

The heavy, slimy, pricking sensation retuned and the girl in front of her began to lose form, spiralling into coloured tendrils of mist.

Santana reached out, desperately trying to grasp the warm hand she had only moments before been holding. She scrabbled, attempting to draw the wispy clouds to her.

The sound of metal screeching as a bolt slid back and the burning sensation at her wrists returned.

She blinked into the gloom, broken save for the flickering candle light and the face of Ryder Lynn, leering down at her.

"Its time to get up. Master wants to see you."

Dazed and consumed by an over whelming sense of loss, she sluggishly crawled from her casket, wincing as she flexed her hands.

Looking down at the knuckles of her left hand, she caught a brief glimpse of a perfect imprint of a fang bite, just as it healed and vanished forever.

Realisation dawned on her.

It was Brittany.

And she had sensed her.

X

**p.s Hope you like the albeit small but there, Brittana action. Please review if you would be so kind.. And let me know if you're liking the way this particular VampVerse is working out. **

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	6. Chapter 6

Once again, I am over whelmed with the amount of faves and follows and the inquiring reviews

Thank you to you all

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

X

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzewrland. 1680 odd. _

X

Brittany swiped her tongue over her teeth.

There it was that distinct taste of life source. It tasted a little diverse to what she was used to, but she was not complaining, far from it in fact. To the young vampire it was nothing short of blissful.

She smacked her lips together, like a cat lapping cream for the first time, before she alighted from her comfortable coffin into the spacious room. It was afar cry from the crypts and basements they had been frequenting of late. It was grand and ornately decorated in deep crimson and dark, warm, solid browns.

She yawned and stretched, missing how her bones used to pop. It was quite a human habit and one she was finding difficult to break. Shaking her body out, she padded over to the large open fireplace. Poking the flames with her fingers, she enjoyed the slight sting and marvelled as the flesh knitted back together, seamlessly.

The dream from her sleep slowly began to filter back.

It had started of quite scary, full of faces of dead people asking silly and confusing questions. The young girl had irked her and she had wanted nothing more than to place her over her knee and tan her hide, because as everyone knew, it wasn't right, being cruel to helpless, little animals. When the annoying little girl had spat maggots at her, she had decided, enough was enough, and she needed a change of scenery.

She had thought really hard about where she wanted to be and finding she wished to be in the fields of her home, she had, quite literally, created it. She had felt a familiar and not entirely unwelcome presence coupled with an over whelming sense of relief.

She smiled to herself, goofily, as she remembered how Songbird had appeared and the antics they had more than enjoyed.

The soft click of the door opening roused her from her thoughts. Elated, she bounded across the floor, embracing her maker, burrowing her face into the crook of her neck and squeezing her tight.

Charlotte chuckled, lightly, embracing her back,

"And good evening to you too my sweet."

"I missed you." The youngling whispered.

"I was only one room over."

Brittany pouted,

"I don't like you being so far away."

"It is something you shall have to get used to little one." Her dam, gently reproached, "I shall not always be able to be by your side."

The rustle of paper and shuffle of dull feet caught the young vampire's attention. She peered over the shoulder of her Mistress. In the gloom stood a red haired young woman, no older than 17 by Brittany's reckoning, with lack lustre eyes and a pale pallor.

Charlotte gave a flick of her wrist and the youngling watched curiously, as the red head ambled into the room, laid the package in her arms over the coffin and began lighting the many lanterns in the room.

"What has you so excited?"

"I had one of those dreams." The young blond began exuberantly, "Except this time it felt really real."

Her Mistress had asked her to keep her informed if anything occurred that Brittany thought was out of the ordinary, well, more strange than what she usually experienced.

Charlotte observed her expectantly whilst Brittany nervously watched every move of the strange girl, who in her mind, was quite rudely making her presence known.

"It's ok," Charlotte soothed, "She shall not see or repeat anything that is said here."

Brittany looked at her quizzically.

"She is a Thrall and cannot." Her dam, enlightened.

Brittany paced towards the red head, who stood with her shoulders drooped and her mouth hanging open. She could hear weird gurgling sounds and she was sure she spotted drool.

She waved her hands in front of the pale face.

The girl didn't blink.

"What's a Thrall?" The youngling asked.

Fascinated, she poked the pale cheeks, enjoying how two red spots appeared under her fingertips and watched as they slowly disappeared.

"They were people who enjoyed being fed from, addicts if you will. After a few feeds humans tend to become a shell. They are easy to control and have their uses as faithful servants. Every vampire should have at least one. It just so happens to be a speciality of Holly's." Charlotte informed her, brightly.

"How come we don't have one?"

Her dam smiled, fondly.

"I wished to be selfish and take care of you all by myself."

Brittany allowed the nugget of information to sink in. Everyday she found out something fresh and interesting about her new life. She turned as if to leave before whipping round, pouncing in front of the thrall with her hands playfully clawed, her fangs bared, sticking out her tongue and shaking her head from side to side,

"Blaaarggh!"

The red head didn't flinch.

Charlotte let out a hearty laugh at the youngling's antics.

"I told you, they are husks."

"Just checking." Brittany quipped back.

"Come here, my sweet. I have something for you."

Brittany stuck out her tongue one last time before making her way over to her Mistress.

Charlotte unwrapped the paper from the limp package to reveal a dazzling sky blue and white, chiffon gown, complete with bodice and lace at the cuffs. Brittany's eyes burned bright at the sight,

"Is this for me?" She asked in awe.

Her maker nodded,

"The occasion calls for it."

Brittany's pale hand reached out, caressing the material.

"It's so pretty!" She breathed.

"A pretty gown for a pretty girl. Now let's get you cleaned up a little shall we?" Charlotte gestured to a small metal bath in the corner.

"But," Brittany began, "We don't sweat!"

"No we don't, but that does not mean that we don't get dirty." Charlotte scooped up the dress, "We are about to meet someone very important and we want to make a good impression, don't we?"

Having arrived at their destination on the cusp of dawn and Charlotte telling her it would be the height of bad manners to wake their host, Brittany had yet to meet the infamous Holly.

She nodded in reply and turned so her dam could begin untying the laces of her corset and help her undress, throwing suspicious glances in the thrall's direction.

"Are you uncomfortable, my sweet?"

The youngling nodded, shyly, mumbling,

"I don't like how she stares."

"Be gone!" Charlotte commanded.

The thrall dutifully shuffled out of the room.

Charlotte guided the young vampire into the small tub putting a light pressure on her shoulders, indicating she wanted her to sit. Brittany drew her knees to her chest as the older woman swiftly washed her hair and her back. She handed Brittany the cloth and busied herself, removing the gown and all its parts from the protective paper, laying them out in order on the coffin.

Brittany continued to wash herself, making sure she did not miss an inch. She was a messy eater and had a tendency to find, days later, crusted flecks down the valley of her breasts and on one occasion the tip of her ear.

"There all done!" She exclaimed.

Charlotte held open a large blanket, beckoning the young vampire to step into it. Brittany stood up, the water dripping down her lean and muscular form, her wet, luminous skin reflected the light from the warm glow of the fire.

"You truly are a sight to behold," Charlotte cooed, wrapping her offspring lovingly in the thick blanket, "Now, tell me of this dream."

Brittany eagerly, began,

"It started off scary, with all these dead people, I know they were dead cause they were all rotten and stuff, and I didn't like that so I changed it and then I was home and it was summer."

"Such are the dreams of our kind." Her dam sighed, wistfully, as she affectionately stroked the blanket down her offspring's hips and thighs.

The young girl in all her naked glory continued,

"You were there and a cat called Tubby and so was Songbird. We kissed and cuddled in a field and then you called us to dinner and you'd made rabbit."

Charlotte worked her way up Brittany's body, making sure to get every last drop of excess water before rubbing the blanket over the blonds head,

"Who were you kissing and cuddling?"

"Santana! Then I bit her and when I woke up, I had blood in my mouth. It tasted so yummy, like the best I have ever had. I could bite her all day if that's the way she tastes!"

Her Mistress paused what she was doing briefly. Turning the girl so she could look in her eyes, she said,

"Just to be clear, you bit your Songbird in your dream and when you awoke, you could taste her?"

Brittany nodded, animatedly,

"Right on the knuckles! Maybe I just bit my tongue, I mean I _was_ kissing her and I _did_ get a bit nippy."

Deep in thought, Charlotte helped her offspring into her undergarments and new dress, stringing the corset and settling her skirts. Once she was done, she stood back to admire the girl.

"There, the perfect fit. The colour really brings out your eyes."

Beaming, Brittany gave a giddy twirl. She had never felt so beautiful in her life.

"Thankyou." She mumbled shyly.

"Don't be silly. You are my precious child and you deserve it." Her Mistress told her, "Come now, we must present ourselves to our host. She is most excited to meet you."

Brittany gave an excited giggle,

"I can't wait!"

X

X

The young vampire peered all around her attempting to drink in all the new sights and sounds as she followed her Mistress, with the annoying thrall shuffling behind them. It gave her the willies. She had thought the house grand but she never expected it to look how she imagined a palace.

Charlotte pushed open two solid and heavy looking oak doors with ease and they entered a large spacious dining room bathed in light.

A tall, slender, chipper woman, with an ethereal beauty and hair a shade lighter than Brittany's own, greeted them with her arms extended,

"Ah, one of the prodigal Fabray sisters has returned!"

Brittany watched in awe as before her very eyes, her dam turned into a teenage girl rushing in to the inviting embrace of the other woman.

"Am I your favourite?" Her Mistress, breathed with a childlike tone, sinking further into the woman's arms.

"Tsk, tsk Charlotte, You know I love you both, exactly the same." The slender woman, cradled her, kissing her forehead, "I missed you."

Brittany heard a muffled,

"I missed you too. It pains me to be apart from you."

"I know, I know. You're home now." The slender woman crooned.

They stayed in each other's arms for a moment, enjoying each other's company, until the chipper woman's bright green eyes, dancing with mirth, alighted upon the youngster.

"And who is this breath taking beauty?"

Charlotte swept her arms, grandly, returning to Brittany's side,

"This is Brittany, my dearest child."

The woman's eyebrows shot up and she smirked in approval,

"You certainly know how to choose them. I taught you well."

"Brittany," Charlotte gestured to the flaxen blond," This is your Grand Dam, Holly."

"Pfssst," Holly swatted at Charlotte light heartedly, "Don't say things like that, you shall make a girl feel old." She turned to Brittany, "Come here and give me a hug."

Brittany took a hesitant step forward to suddenly find her self engulfed in a bone-crushing embrace. There was something genial about it and the young vampire found herself relaxing into the crisp, clear, fresh smell that made her think of the new mornings snow.

"I enjoy a Sapphirec show as much as the next person, but this is beginning to look like a bunch of Mystics at a sabbat." A light voice teased.

Brittany spied a young man draped lazily across a chair. His stocking clad leg and buckled black shoe swung back and forth over the arm as he inspected his fingernails. He looked about Brittany's age, maybe younger; it was hard for her to tell. His brown, reddish hair was cut short and his cheeks were flawlessly, porcelain white.

Holly rolled her eyes, grinning broadly, motioning to the young man,

"Our ever gracious guest is Kurt. He is of the House of Franz."

He gracefully rose from his seat, approaching Brittany with a feminine sway in his hips,

"Formerly of Bourbon. But that was another life." Taking Brittany's hand, he dashingly raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly, making sure to look her in the eyes, "May I say you are simply iridescent. I see Charlotte has not lost her touch."

Brittany could not help the girlish giggle that escaped her.

"You look like a pretty pony!"

Letting go of her hand, Kurt laughed,

"I can see the two of us will get along swimmingly."

Pulling out a chair, at the huge mahogany dining table, he motioned for her to sit. Brittany swept her skirts beneath her, so as not to crease, and was surprised when Kurt pushed the chair in for her. He seated himself in the one beside her.

"Brittany," Charlotte began as she seated herself across from her, "Kurt has kindly offered to teach you the history of the Houses."

Holly relaxed herself into a plush comfortable armchair at the head of the table and began to pass small talk with Charlotte, their hands would briefly flitter to one another.

Not wishing to spy on private moments or admit to the miniscule twist of jealousy, she felt, Brittany began surveying her surroundings. Lavish paintings hung on each wall, in the far corner stood a bookcase filled with old stuffed books, some she could see had cracked spines. Across from her was a roaring open fire that dominated the room. The large table was clear, save for four huge goblets, placed in front of each guest. In the other corner stood two high backed stuffed chairs, the likes she had never seen before.

Holly's clear voice brought her from her musings,

"Brittany as the newest guest we shall leave it to you to choose the vintage. Young, old, male, female. Do you have any preference?"

She looked around, bewildered. The young vampire had never contemplated if she had a preference; usually she simply followed her nose and enjoyed herself.

Kurt leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"Holly never ceases to have the best vintages, she is some what of a connoisseur but may I suggest, the girl. She is rather sumptuous, rather well fed in her past life and is of a sweet disposition"

The three other vampires sat patiently, waiting for Brittany to make a decision. Not wishing to make a mistake or let her Mistress down, she went with the safest option.

"I'll go with what Kurt suggested."

Kurt leaned over, squeezing her knee,

"Good choice."

Two thralls entered the room carrying metal tankards wrapped in cloths. Brittany could see the slight shimmer of heat, undetectable to a human eye, rising within. She brimmed with excitement, licking her lips, as they poured the viscous, crimson liquid into the goblets before them.

Fidgeting in her seat, she watched as Holly took a handkerchief and wiped the mouth of her manservant thrall. Satisfied, the older woman gave him a pointed stare. He turned and shuffled off into the corner of the room, where he stopped, motionless, arms limply hanging by his sides and his head lolled forward.

Holly rose her glass,

"To new relatives, may she prosper and thrive!"

"To Brittany," Toasted Charlotte,

"Cheers!" quipped Kurt.

Brittany drank, greedily from her goblet. She crinkled her nose at the odd sensation of the fluid sliding down her throat rather than being fast and free flowing. The action in itself she found strange having only ever drank with a pump of a heart beat pushing it into her mouth but Kurt was right, the blood had a quality of sweetness to it she found titillating.

"It takes a little getting used to," Kurt offered, "But it's so much cleaner. I find when you chase them they tend to spray every where which is all well and good if you don't mind ruining your clothes."

But that was exactly how Brittany liked it, with the adrenalin pumping through their veins, the hint of terror and crippling fear making it all the more sweeter. She liked how their hearts frantically pounded in their chests causing the life source to spill from them in gushing spurts as they kicked until she drained them and they fell into a peaceful slumber. The harder they ran the messier is was and to Brittany, the mess was half the fun.

She continued to devour her meal. Slightly disappointed when she found her glass empty, she tipped it back, giving it a little shake and then licked the rim.

"Hungry little thing, aren't we?" Holly teased, throwing her a wink.

Brittany looked at her Mistress in embarrassment when she realised everyone else was sipping sedately at their own.

"Don't mind Holly." Kurt parted, "It would be deemed rather rude if a youngling did not enjoy such a decadent feast."

Holly waved at the manservant thrall, who shuffled forward and refilled Brittany's goblet before returning to his post in the dark recesses.

This time the young woman forced herself to sip delicately at her glass.

"Brittany has quite the healthy appetite and is very well behaved. I don't think any of my children took to the life in quite the way that she has." Charlotte smiled encouragingly.

Brittany found herself swelling with pride at her Mistress's words.

Holly leaned forward pinching Charlotte's cheek, chortling,

"It would seem it runs in the family! I remember a time when you would think nothing of three sometimes four hunts in a night and your sister, well, lets just say I considered moving cities!"

Charlotte laughed in reply, taking a sip from her goblet. She daintily wiped her lips,

"Speaking of my sister, has there been news?"

Holly's tone suddenly became serious and sadness crossed her ethereal features,

"Unfortunately no. It would seem she has disappeared or gone to ground."

Charlotte scowled, placing her napkin forcefully on the table,

"Nana you know Lucinda would never go to ground without informing one of us or at least sending word." She added, mournfully, "Even Calan has nothing of her. I fear something vile has befallen her."

"Shh my pet we shall find her. This is not the place for this conversation, how ever tell me of Calan."

The two blond women fell into hushed conversation. Brittany watched as emotions flickered across her dam's face. It was not the younglings place to comfort her as she was in the presence of her own maker, no matter how much she yearned to. Kurt brought her from her melancholy.

"Brittany, whilst they talk of things we shall no doubt find boring, why don't you tell me of yourself, being we are going to be spending a considerable amount of time together."

Grateful for the distraction she began telling him of her life before her rebirth and places she had seen since. The life source flowed freely and Kurt told him of himself, regaling her with stories of past hunts and the nature of his own rebirth.

"You're a real life prince?" Brittany exclaimed.

"I am!" Kurt admitted, "Apparently it is the height of bad manners to rise from the dead, threatening the throne of your real life brother, even if he is a murdering little shit." With a flick of his hair, he jested, "Who would have thought?"

The youngster marvelled,

"I've never met a real life prince before!"

"We are nothing special. My creation helped me see that we are nothing more than a pack of obnoxious gits. He didn't last that long, my sister, the sly mare, got him a good one." He leaned forward, conspiratorially, "Enough about that. A little bird told me you have quite the unusual ability."

"It's nothing really." Brittany bashfully, replied.

She became aware of the room suddenly becoming quiet and all eyes turning to her. She began to pick the pattern of the grain in the table, nervously.

"It's ok Brittany," Charlotte assured her, before turning to Holly, "Nana, may she?"

Holly conceded with a wave of her hand,

"Of course, I would very much like to see a display."

The flaxen woman snapped her fingers and the manservant from the corner ambled forward.

Brittany got up from her seat and began to circle the zombified man. She heard Charlotte whisper,

"She's never done this to a thrall before."

Brittany focused intently on the thrall, finding slipping into his mind as easy as a knife through butter. He felt wet and slimy, like a rope left in a river for too long. She could see all his transgressions.

He had been a bad man.

A very bad man.

He had fought in battles but not for glory, or country, he had fought for the violence and thrived on the cruelty he had inflicted on others. She weaved her way through his memories, finding one in particular. He had held a small child to the fire, laughing as the small boy struggled and his mother had begged and wept for him to stop.

He had not!

She wrapped herself around that memory making it pulse and swell.

She leaned forward and quietly whispered in his ear before stepping back to watch.

The thrall stood tall, blinking as if seeing for the first time, his eyes were clear and he became fully aware of his surroundings.

He approached the fire blaze where the flames roared with a searing heat. Bending over he stuck his whole hand into the dancing flame. Brittany watched gleefully as he bubbled and shrieked, repeating the words of the young child he had tortured. He attempted to pull himself away. Brittany held him there.

"Brittany!" She heard someone say, but it sounded as if it was far away.

From the corner of her eye she saw Kurt, as if in slow motion, leap from his seat, his words distorted,

"Bloody hell fire!"

The feelings of anger and revulsion from her dreams returned. The despair, the consuming rage, the guilt, the shame, it surrounded her.

She wanted to destroy something. She pushed him harder, ignoring his screams.

Instead, she revelled in them, trembling from the pleasure.

"Brittany! Enough!" Charlotte roared.

She reluctantly relinquished her hold on the pathetic excuse for a human being. He slumped to the floor moaning and writhing in agony. His hand was smouldered and broken with blisters. The acrid stench of burnt flesh and hair hung heavy in the air.

Kurt stomped on the embers of the thrall's jacket, who twitched upon the floor, suddenly becoming silent.

He turned to the two older women, exclaiming,

"Did you see that? She did that without tasting him!"

"He was a bad man. He deserved it!" Brittany simply stated, attempting to calm the tremors in her hands.

Kurt stared at her open mouthed in shock at what he had just witnessed. Holly eyed her with a keen interest, her green eyes flickering between the thrall and the youngster. Taking a languid sip from her goblet, she asked,

"Why is he a bad man Brittany?"

"He tortured children!"

Holly nodded, never taking her eyes from the young girl,

"He did. And you saw all that?"

"And more besides." Brittany replied.

"Why did you do what you did at the end?"

She suddenly did not want to explain to anyone, she did not want to explain that the feelings at the end had not been hers, that they had belonged to another.

One she wished to keep to herself.

"I don't know." She shrugged, petulantly. "I just did!"

Holly continued to observe her coolly, through hooded eyes.

Charlotte approached her,

"Brittany, go with Kurt."

The youngling was suddenly flushed with shame that she embarrassed and let down her Mistress. Her bottom lip began to tremble,

"I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong? Please don't send me away from you!" She begged.

Charlotte gently began stroking the blood tears from her face,

"There, there, my sweet. You did nothing wrong. You just got a little over zealous, that's all."

"But, but," Brittany began.

"It's ok, go with Kurt," She kissed her on the forehead, "Holly and I have much to discuss which is not for young ears."

Brittany sniffled, nodding sadly.

"Come on Brittany, I'll show you the gardens. They are really pretty this time of night." He gently took her hand, "I promise to return you before sunrise."

She gave her Mistress a kiss on the cheek before stepping over the thrall and following Kurt. As she exited the room, she heard Holly breath,

"Wow!"

X

**p.s Hey guys n dolls we finally made a little headway into Britts 'abilities' and a little explantio of 'The Dream'.. Hope u like.. Let me know what you think, **

.


	7. Chapter 7

You are all once again astounding me with the amount of faves and follows and the inquiring reviews

I hope I am answering all your questions. I try to reply in PM's and what not but I'm trying not to give the plot away. Im glad you're liking our favourite girls bond :D

Thank you to you all

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_The Pits. Mid to late 1680's, she assumes._

X

The silver manacles chaffed and burned the caramel flesh of her wrists and ankles into an ugly, crusty, charred black. A constant reminder of her Master and the peevish ways he liked to entertain himself.

They left her drained and weakened. Never in her whole existence had she felt so _human, _but somehow, the physical pain was easier to bear than the mental anguish of all those souls refusing her absolution.

She had been set upon a rampage and had cut a swath of destruction through the countryside and every time she came down from her high, she was faced with herself and what she had done. He had eventually had grown bored of setting her upon innocents whilst she was in a blood frenzy. She had almost been grateful until he had informed her that she was detrimental to his plans in gaining money and advantage.

His eyes had gleamed in a way, she knew, did not forebode well for her and her skin had crawled.

Until then he had left her here, in the Pits.

She did not mind that so much.

At least down here, she would be left alone, for now.

X

They had spent years flitting around the Alps and down into depths of the Black forest in search of someone or something. Being that to her, they all spoke the same language, the only clue that they had moved had been the changes in the landscape.

She honestly had no idea where or even when she was in the world.

The over powering reek of shit and damp blocked out any distinguishable smell that would help her identify her surroundings. From the sounds she could barely hear, she could tell that they were in a city and a rather large one at that.

Her cell was not too small, the walls were well made, she had attempted to dig her way out but the mortar was solid and when she had redoubled her efforts, the white burning sensation had returned, and the roof swept into an arch. The only window she had was a small hole in the door covered over with a few bars. In the far corner lay her coffin and body of her previous evening's meal.

She hated drinking from thralls, their blood always made her feel like someone had spat in her food and when she thought about the nature of how the were created, they rather had.

She knew that down here, in the dark, she was not alone.

She could smell a mass of unwashed bodies, tinged with fear and despair. She could vaguely hear their panicked heartbeats in her weakened state, but every now and again, she would hear whimpering sobs and hacking coughs.

A hulking, bare chested black man whose muscles bulged and rippled in the faint torch light had on more than one occasion unlocked the their cell, returning with a poor soul who struggled and kicked, if they had any fight left in them, or obediently followed, cowering, disappearing up the passageway.

Sometimes, just after a feed when she felt a little stronger, she would hear shrieks and the mirthful giggles of Sebastian and his cohorts and she would think of all the ways she had suffered at his hands and imagine ways in which she would like to kill him.

In the middle of the day, she had heard a cart trundle over the paving stones of the passageway, accompanied by the grunts and groans of the thralls as they struggled to lift something heavy into the cell across from her own. She had heard a coffin open and a high pitched screech.

Then she had been commanded to sleep.

X

She lay in her open casket, picking out the pattern of the brickwork overhead, thinking about Brittany and the strange nature of her dreams.

How was it possible that something that happened in her dream self could manifest in her physical form?

She absently drew her thumb over the knuckles where the bite had appeared. Sebastian had said the blond would sense her, but how?

She heard the heavy footfalls of the clodhopping idiot who always carried a whiff of wet dog. Jumping out of her bed, she made her way over to the door, peering out of the small window. She hollered,

"Hey you! Come take this bitch out of my room, she's smelling the place up."

The dark, brooding man continued to lumber down the passageway, ignoring her.

"Hey! Are you deaf?"

Sticking her fingers in her mouth, she blew a piercing whistle.

In the blink of an eye, a huge bulk slammed against the door, nearly causing it to buckle. Large canine jaws slobbered, snarled and snapped at her, against the bars. Hot air that stank of the sweet, sickly smell of decay hit her like a brick wall.

Santana leapt back in fright, screaming into the room,

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is that?"

"He is a Versipellis more commonly known as a werewolf." A soft, well-spoken female voice came from across the passageway.

"And a TRAITOR" she heard the same voice scream after him.

"You're shitting me?"

She peeked through the small window to see the top half of a doll like face, with light blond hair and shining hazel eyes, peering back at her from the other cell.. They reminded her of the eyes from the woman in the dream, but this was not her, this girl was younger.

"After all you have seen do you still believe that we are the only things that go bump in the night?" The girl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"But they don't exist?" Santana replied in disbelief.

"It stands to reason that if we exist that they would most certainly exist."

"Ok," Santana challenged, "What else is there?"

"Mystics and Spirit Walkers, otherwise known as witches and shamans. There are not too many shamans around, well, not in this part of the world, at least."

Santana returned her stare, blankly.

"Does all the messy business of women being burned at the stake in England ring any bells?" The girl asked with exasperation.

Santana continued to stare.

"My, my, you really do not know your history do you?" The blond mocked.

Santana gripped the bars in her hands as she sniped,

"It's not like I get out much."

The blond girl laughed at her, causing Santana to seethe.

Who did she think the haughty, taughty cow think she was?

She slid down the door to sit on the floor. She had thought they were the only ones and now it turned out there was a whole world of ghoulish creatures. How carefree and idiotic she had been to take all those late night strolls home from the tavern a little under the influence. When Hudson and the barkeep had warned her to be careful and keep an eye out for fiends on the way, they had not known just how right they had been.

"Have you seen any rats?" The girl from across the passageway asked.

"What?" Santana snapped, annoyed that the girl had addressed her.

"Rats. Have you seen any?" The girl asked again, as if Santana was an infant.

Seriously?

What was this girl's problem?

She had only been in her cell for half a day. Santana had sometimes had to last anywhere in between three and five.

"Why are you looking for rodents? You can't be that desperate?"

Once more, the haughty voice drifted through the door,

"Do you not think that is rather strange that we are, for all intents and purposes, in a dungeon and we have yet to see one?"

Santana thumped her head back against the door in irritation,

"It's not something I think about. As you can see I'm a little preoccupied."

"You're a newborn, I take it?"

"Nearly twenty years, but who's counting?" Santana replied, flippantly.

"Guess that explains it then."

"What?"

"Why you're so clueless."

"Hey!" Santana snarled, jumping up so she could eye the blond through the porthole, "I was commanded here. What's your excuse?"

"I was careless." The other girl replied sadly.

A heavy silence hung between them for a few moments. Santana was sure she heard the girl sniff.

"I think I saw a few dead ones on the way down here," She offered, feeling guilty, she had somehow upset the girl who for the unforeseeable future would be her only company.

"That smart bastard!"

Santana was taken aback. The voice did not seem like it belonged to the sort of person who cursed.

"What's your obsession with rats any way?"

The girl gave a small sigh.

"I know of one who can gain information from them. Even if a few saw me, it would take a while but at least I would have a little piece of mind that word of my where abouts might get through to my people."

"Where are we?" Santana asked.

"Italy I think. What's your name?"

"Santana."

"Hello Santana, I'm Lucinda." The girl paused, "Lucinda Fabray."

X

**p.s for some obscure reason I found it really hard to write a convo through a door.. We finally got to hear Q !**


	8. Chapter 8

Once again, I have been over whelmed with the amount of faves and follows and the inquiring reviews

Thank you to you all

For those of you that reviewed under guest I hope this answers some of your questions.

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X **

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzerland. Late 1680's. Current House of Dubois._

X

She had left her most cherished offspring in the capable hands of Kurt, for yet another evening of education. The youngling's lessons were going well, better than Charlotte could ever have anticipated and it helped that the two youngsters delighted in each other's company.

At first Brittany had found the names and dates difficult to grasp, the letters, as the youngster said, simply refused to stick. However, she had taken an avid interest in the coats of arms of the Houses and had taken to painting the family trees on pieces of canvas, which sometimes took up the whole floor of the library.

Armed with brush and quill, she painstakingly recreated in bright colours, the names, dates, countries and where possible the cities of her rebirthed brethren. Watching the girl lay on her stomach, waving her legs in the air, sticking out her pink tongue in concentration as she happily worked had become some of Charlotte's most cherished moments.

She knew the day when she would have to leave her offspring behind was fast approaching and the very thought pained her.

X

She let herself into Holly's study, slipping quietly through the copious doors, so as not to disturb her dam. Her feet picked lightly over the wooden floors as she approached the two high backed chairs that faced her Mistress.

Atop the left one, a large, sleek, black crow was perched. It eyed her, benevolently before raising its wings and squawking at her in warning. A dark, plump hand reached up and fed the creature a tasty morsel. It clacked its beak, tipping back its neck to swallow before settling itself. The hand briefly petted it, then returned to be once more, obscured by the sweeping, high back of the chair.

Holly looked in Charlotte's direction, smiling broadly,

"You are here, my pet."

Approaching the vacant seat, Charlotte's keen eyesight picked out from the dark recesses of the other, an old woman with dark skin, wizened like a walnut. Her almost black eyes twinkled with an alert intelligence that belied her appearance. She was wrapped in skirts and shawls of royal purple and deep blues. The gold bangles on her wrists jangled as she held out her hand in greeting.

Charlotte took it in her own, surprised at the heat that emanated from the gypsy.

"It is a pleasure."

The old woman did not reply.

Charlotte seated herself, settling her skirts. A thrall appeared placing a warm goblet upon the small table between the two chairs. Holly began,

"Lyubitshka and I were just discussing the nature of Brittany's dreams."

Charlotte took a small of the sweet nectar, allowing it to trickle down her throat before relaxing back and feeling she was ready for the conversation at hand.

"What is the name of the connected?" Lyubitshka asked, with a strong Eastern European accent.

Charlotte hesitated, it was said that to give a Mystic your name was to give them power over you. It was one of the reasons why some makers chose to rename their offsprings, as an extra layer of protection. She did not feel entirely comfortable revealing such sensitive information, especially of one that was so obviously dear to her own precious child.

She looked at her own dam for reassurance. The flaxen woman nodded,

"Go on Charlotte, it is quite alright. We have come to an agreement."

Charlotte took another sip from her goblet,

"Santana Lopez."

"And where is she from?"

Charlotte struggled with herself. In her experience Mystics only ever took an interest in things that could further their own agenda, but she trusted her dam and she had, for whatever reason, deemed the meeting necessary. Reluctantly, she parted,

"Basque, I believe."

"And you are sure she has been turned?"

Charlotte nodded as she demurely placed her goblet on the table,

"It is the only way we can think as to how this is able to occur."

Holly leaned over the table to retrieve a tankard. Filling her own glass, she asked of the gypsy woman,

"Do you think it is possible that she could have Mystic in her blood?

With a clink of her bangles, the witch replied,

"Our presence was heavy in that region once over. There is a small possibility that this Santana girl could be related to one of the tribes. It would certainly explain the bond after one taste."

"Have you no records?" Charlotte asked in surprise.

The old woman's eyes narrowed and her features became pinched.

"Our sisters in England were keepers of such things. Chattox and Demdyke made sure to destroy them before they were brutally murdered in the massacre!"

The Mystic cursed in what Charlotte recognised as Swato as she created a complicated sign in the air. The crow began cawing, hopping excitedly along the back of the chair. The shadows in the corners of the room began to grow and encroach as the old woman spat venomously,

"They turned Mother upon Daughter, Sister upon Sister. They came in the night armed with chains and Priests with their protection charms of old. Somebody made the human's aware of our existence and led them straight to our doors!" She turned to Charlotte, "Do you know what they did to them?"

Charlotte had heard of the Trials, so they had been called by the mortals. She had heard tales of women, children as young as five and six, sometimes-whole families, being tortured in iron contraptions of pain and suffering, of dunkings in deep, swift running rivers, weighted down with stones before being burned alive.

"I am sorry for your loss, "Holly began, sympathetically, "Both women deserved better. I assure you, your betrayal was not at the hands of House Dubois or the House of Franz. If we had known.."

The flames of the candles in the lanterns flickered as if in a gale. Charlotte was almost sure that on the edge of her hearing she could make out accusatory cries. Hissing the old woman cut Holly off,

"Tsst, tsst. I did not come here to hear your excuses. I come here for information in order to find those responsible so that we may exact vengeance!"

Charlotte knew that the Mystics power transferred via the word of mouth, passed down from generation to generation or to those select few outsiders that showed an aptitude for it. She inquired, hesitantly,

"Do you not have copies?"

Lyubitshka's features darkened further, becoming a frightful mask,

"We are now few and those that are left are either in hiding or fleeing for their lives. None of us would take the risk. If such a list was to fall into the wrong hands, it would mean the end of our kind."

Holly began pacing the room in agitation, her hands behind her back. Charlotte could sense her Mistress's turmoil and frustration at not having all the facts. It could be any number of the Houses behind such a blatant attack and the grapevine had remained suspiciously quiet.

The flaxen woman stopped in her tracks, turning to the gypsy,

"Do you think it could be possible to find out?"

The crow ruffled its feathers, as the gypsy remained deep in thought. The only indication that she had heard the question was the sound of the woman sucking her teeth.

It grated on Charlotte's nerves.

With a shake of her bangles, the witch began slowly,

"I could make enquires. It may take some time, as the southern covens are difficult to locate. They are constantly on the move to avoid persecution." The shadows began to recede back to normal as she added, "Keep in mind I do not do this for you. I do this for my sisters that were taken before their time."

"I understand." Holly nodded.

Suddenly, the sounds of a great commotion and an agonising howl ripped through the house. Feet could be heard, rapidly approaching. Kurt burst through the door,

"My Lady come quick!" he demanded, urgently, "Something terrible has happened."

All three women dashed from the room, following the anxious young vampire down the hallway towards the sounds of bedlam.

The dining room was in disarray.

Upon the dining a table a thrall thrashed and yowled, held down by a number of other thralls. In the corner stood a shabbily dressed, decrepit vampire, Charlotte did not recognise, who paced back and forth, rubbing his hands over his non-existent hair.

Drawing herself up to her full height and baring her fangs, Holly roared,

"What is the meaning of this?"

The decrepit vampire shuffled forward mewling,

"I am Vargo of.."

Holly knocked a chair out of her way, where it splintered into a thousand pieces, her eyes flashing as she approached him, screaming,

"I don't care who you are! I want to know why this creature is on my table!"

The old vampire cowered and simpered,

"He came in the evening bearing the crest of Methuselah, the only word we could make out was Dubois so I brought him here as fast as we could."

The thrall began to gnash and foam at the mouth. His hands stiffly clawed as he jerked, his heels scrabbled to find purchase, arching his back off the table. The other thralls struggled to keep him pinned. He let out a high-pitched whine.

His over coat looked charred and his breeches were shredded.

Holly stalked over to the creature, pulling back his long coat to reveal a wound on his thigh, caked in blood. She tore off the remnants of his breeches, flinging them with a well-aimed shot into the fireplace.

Upon his leg was a vicious bite. The wound rippled and moved as if creatures burrowed beneath the flesh, oozing bright yellow pus that smelled foul and lingered thick in the air.

The thrall continued to babble incoherently.

"He is too far gone," Holly, cursed, "Kurt, fetch Brittany at once!"

X

Kurt ushered Brittany into the room. The mood was sombre and coated in worry. The only sounds were the moans of the agonised creature and the thuds and scrapes as he writhed upon the wood.

"Brittany, I need you to see into his mind, and see what has befallen him." Holly asked, gently.

The youngling looked startled and uncomfortable at the request, her eyes flitting between Charlotte, the thrall and her Grand dam.

"Please Brittany," Charlotte begged, "It is incredibly important we find out what he knows."

"We don't have much time." Holly added, urgently.

Brittany cautiously approached the table. Climbing on to it, she slowly shifted herself across the wood, coming to rest by the agonised creatures head. Standing on her knees, she gently swept his hair out of his eyes and murmured soft words, calming the thrall.

His thrashing ceased and he seemed to relax beneath her touch. She placed her hands either side of his head and her brow began to crinkle in concentration. The room fell silent save for the odd crackle of the fire.

Charlotte watched as a plethora of emotions flittered across her offspring's face. Her shoulders shook and she began to weep.

"Have you seen all?" Holly asked, quietly.

The young vampire drew her sleeve across her face and nodded mournfully.

Holly went over to a set of drawers in the corner. Removing a necklace of keys from round her neck, she unlocked one of them, retrieving a pair of long, black velvet gloves. Putting them on, she reached back into the drawer, removing an intricately carved, dark wooden box, placing it on the table

Taking another key, she unlocked it, carefully lifting out an ivory handled knife. The tip and the edge of the blade glinted wickedly.

"Bring him peace, Brittany."

The girl soothed the whimpering thrall, cooing and clucking. She lightly wiped his brow with her thumb and cradled his face.

The thrall's eyes became clear and he smiled up at her,

"Hilde?" He breathed.

Brittany smiled down at him, whispering,

"Shhh Fritz, I am here. It is time to come home."

A look of bliss came over his features.

Holly slid the knife into his heart and twisted the blade.

The thrall let out a contented sigh and lay still.

Brittany flung herself from the table and into her Mistress's arms, sobbing. Charlotte held her tight, rocking her back and forth to calm her.

"Shhh little one, shh. It's over now."

After a few moments Charlotte could feel the young girl's sobs subside.

Holly motioned to the thrall's to remove the creature's body and told them to attend to the messenger. Once they had gone, she approached the two women.

"Brittany, you must tell us what you saw."

Charlotte guided her offspring to sit and took one beside her, making sure to hold the young blonds hand.

Brittany began.

She told them of the strange building full of her brethren, how in the middle of the day they had been attacked.

Some had been torn from the safety of their caskets only to have water poured upon them that caused their skin to sizzle and peel. Some had fled, attempting to escape through the tunnels only to find they had been blocked. Others had alighted from windows into the daylight only to crumble into dust and disappear on the wind.

She told them of a plump red head, with golden eyes, who had wailed in anguish at the death of her beloved children. The same woman had demanded the thrall make haste to Holly and the House of Dubois in warning and tell of what had happened, giving him licence to speak. She told them of the explosion that ripped the house from its very foundations and she spoke of the grief she had felt, emanating in waves.

"And did you see who did this?" Charlotte asked.

"Wolves," Brittany sobbed, "I saw Wolves."

X

**Ps.. here we go, next chap Santana, n then some brittana,**

**Please feel free to review and I hope u are enjoying the way this is going **


	9. Chapter 9

Wow! Over 100 reviews for 8 chapters. I am astounded at the response.

Thankyou all . I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

**Warning : This is a dark chapter. I would not say graphic. Just dark. **

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Italy. So Lucinda claims. Late 1680's. _

X

He had commanded Santana to not cause any harm and follow the thralls to the upper levels in order to make herself presentable. She had conceded, as was now commonplace for her to do so.

Upon entering the room that mirrored that of a bathhouse, the thralls had stripped her of her clothes, shuffling to one side in the manner she had grown accustomed.

She felt as if in a daze, everything seemed so far away, her hands and her actions not of her own.

She bathed herself in the warm waters and oils that smelt of roses, taking care to rinse it all from her hair. She towelled herself dry and craved to lash out as two thralls began helping her into a white, front laced, undergarment bodice, that complimented her tanned complexion. It did not lace all the way and no matter how hard she tried she could not cover the herself, the tops of her pushed together, ample cleavage were on display for all to see. The deep red skirt pinched in at her waist and flowed over her hips, sensually accentuating her figure. The thralls busied themselves setting her raven locks into soft curls that fell over her shoulders. They affixed a bright red flower in her hair and a black choker round her neck, set with a ruby red stone. The silver manacles remained.

She followed the two thralls through a myriad of passageways out into a small, open roofed courtyard. In the middle, a fountain lazily spilled over into a round, shallow pool. It would almost be beautiful it wasn't surrounded by closed doors, behind from which came the lustful moans and groans of carnal acts, sometimes broken by the sound of leather upon skin closely followed by yelps or cries for mercy.

In some of the doorways, hovered naked, young men and women, some barely older than late teens, their eyes not quite glossed over.

Fresh thralls she assumed, as they did not drool and their movements were almost entirely human.

It would seem Sebastian was running a pleasure house of some sorts and Santana now knew why there was such an abundance of food.

These youthful, pretty, and in some cases down right beautiful, creatures were used within an inch of their lives, when their use had been fulfilled and they could physically give no more, they were discarded to be feasted upon by those in the Pits.

Santana would have gladly scarfed down a huge Sunday roast, the rind and even the burnt bits, just so she could throw it back up and gag at the depravity of it all.

She now had her suspicions what Sebastian meant by money and leverage.

She was led into yet another courtyard. This one was large, wide and spacious. The sights it contained were the likes of which the newborn had never seen.

It was as if she had stumbled upon some great celebration.

Jugglers in bright outfits tossed clubs into the air, achieving great heights before twirling around and making them disappear. Others breathed like dragons, spitting huge, hot plumes of flames around them, the woosh of the flames being drowned out by the gasps and applause of the men and women, decked out in ostentatious outfits and petticoats, that watched in fascination and glee. Girls in outfits similar to her own weaved their way amongst lounge chairs, decanting wine and offering fruits to their occupants. The sounds of bards plucking upon their instruments mingled in with the cries of triumph and the groans of frustration from gamblers. The torches that dotted the walls flickered, casting shadows, lending a dream like quality to it all.

She heard Sebastian's slimy voice call over the din,

"Ah, Santana, my dear, you have arrived!"

He approached her, flanked by two towering, broad and beefy men whose bulging muscles glistened in the dancing light, the smell of wet dog lingering around them.

More Versipellis, She thought.

Sebastian linked his arm through her own, patting her hand with an affection reserved for lovers. At his touch, she wished to flay her own skin, tear it from her very bones and fling it into the gutter to rot.

"Shall we do the rounds," He asked brightly, "As you can see, the party is in full swing."

Looking up at the sky through the open roof she could make out the faint twinkle of far off stars and wished nothing more than to be were they where.

To think that at one time in her life she had adored evenings like these, when the breezeless night was still warm and the stars overhead shined brightly, where she sat on the hill with Hudson, picking out the patterns and swapping silly stories of their creation.

If only she had known the horrors, the darkness truly held.

Her sire noticed her gaze,

"I know what you are thinking and it would be futile to try. Every entrance is laden with protection. Once you are in, only I can let you out."

He continued to lead her amongst the merrymakers. She cringed when she noticed that some of her own brethren were attending to these mortals, they waved seductively or fawned when Sebastian passed.

Did they not hate him as she did?

Did they not wish to see him perish?

A sprite like youth danced and cavorted before them, wiggling his bare buttocks suggestively before dashing away to lavish his attention upon an old greying man who pawed hungrily at his smooth flesh as the youth straddled his hips and ground down.

Santana gasped in shock. Sebastian laughed at her expression,

"Santana my dear, not all men of the cloth are men of God. That one, as you can see, has a particular liking for young boys."

A woman who looked to Santana to be in her Forty's, with bad teeth and an askew wig tittered in delight as a young man nibbled on her neck, his hands up her skirts.

The youngling spun round, she was surrounded by out right debauchery.

Her Master continued, airily,

"Rich merchants and Princes from all over the world come here, by invitation only of course, exclusivity being the nature. It is _the_ place to visit in this city if you are affluent and looking for a good time."

"And which city are we in exactly?" Santana asked, slyly, hoping against hope he would some how slip up.

Sebastian snickered, patting her hand in a playful manner,

"Santana, why would you wish to know? Our location changes nothing of your situation. Your lover shall find you, if she hasn't forsaken you." He paused, as if scanning the crowd, "She does seem to be rather taking her time don't you think?" His face lit up, "Ah just the person I am looking for."

He set off and she reluctantly followed, wishing to drag her feet.

She could feel men and women's raking their eyes over her in desire making her uncomfortable.

She attempted to pull up her bodice over her breasts, Sebastian slapped her hand away, scowling and squeezing her hand till it turned white as they approached an over weight slob, his belly protruding from beneath his white shirt. His breeches were round his ankles and a russet red head bobbed up and down in his lap, his meaty hands tangled in her hair. His fat, round face was obscured by a black and white mask, fashioned into that of a jester.

He let out a grunt as the russet haired girl continued to slurp and suck. Santana caught a flicker of eyes as he became aware of their presence. He roughly pulled the girl from his lap to reveal his small, glazed, cock standing to attention. The girl got to her feet wiping the strings of saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand, throwing the newborn a sly wink.

Santana felt her stomach turn.

"Signore Medici, I see you are enjoying yourself!"

The heavy man attempted to roll himself into a better position, unsteadily reaching for a jug of wine, the russet haired girl stooped to help him, he snatched it from her grasp, quaffing the contents.

"Who is this?" Medici gestured to Santana with the jug, "She is a creature of beauty."

Sebastian stroked her cheek, lovingly.

"She is my most prized possession. She understands the language of any man."

The hairy, pig man's eyes continued to rove over her hungrily as the smell and evidence of his arousal assaulted her. She attempted to step behind Sebastian, who took her bicep in a vice like grip, forcing her to stay put.

"I can see that you hold her close. What for an evening?" Medici bartered.

Sebastian chuckled,

"An evening with her might very well cost you your soul, but as with all things business. Everything is negotiable."

Revulsion and panic spread through her at his words.

Did he mean to give her away to this man like a thrall to be feasted upon?

If he so commanded she would be in no position to refuse. She forced herself to control her trembles, clenching her fists until her nails bit into the palms of her hands. She would not allow Sebastian to see her fear, if he sensed it, he would surely use it against her.

"Would not Lylah be more to your choosing?" Sebastian motioned to the russet haired girl, "I hear she enjoys that thing you find most pleasurable."

Medici continued to eye the youngling, palming his erection, making sure to linger over the ugly, red swollen head. Santana grimaced and squirmed at the sight.

"I'd prefer to do it to the likes of her. A gypsy bitch would be perfect."

Santana could see rivulets of sweat, cutting clear paths though the dirt as it trickled down into the matted hair of his chest, poking out from the slit in his shirt.

She could no longer hold back the shudder as her mind raced with the thoughts of what he could be suggesting.

"What of the seat my nephew craves?" He asked.

Sebastian swept out his arm,

"Do you not see the Cardinal right there? I came to tell you that it shall not be long."

"See to it that it isn't. His Mother grows impatient." Medici growled.

"All in good time! Lylah see that he enjoys himself."

The russet haired girl nearly bounced with excitement, wiggling her fingers over Sebastian's chest and clacking her fangs before taking up her previous position on her knees and devouring his cock, bobbing her head at a blistering pace. Medici let out a hiss of pleasure.

Sebastian tore Santana away, twisting his grip on her arm causing the skin to break. She let out a whimper as he crooned in her ear,

"If you ever misbehave I shall allow him to fuck you three ways from Sunday. I might even command you to enjoy it." He paused as if in deep thought, "Maybe that's what I need to do in order to draw her to you."

Santana quailed beside him.

He continued to drag her across the courtyard, the lumbering Versipellis close at their heels. Rapping on a solid, heavy door, in a series of knocks, he hopped impatiently until a tiny panel slide back to reveal a pair of orange eyes peering out of the gloom. The sounds of hefty bolts sliding back and a key grating in the lock could be heard.

The door creaked open, leading in to an almost entirely dark passageway. Hulking masses stood either side; they slipped past them and picked their way across the paving stones. The passage wound down continuously, taking twists and turns until Santana became disorientated. The lumbering footfalls of Sebastian's 'guard dogs' followed.

The passage way opened out into a grand hall. Even in Santana's weakened state, she could sense the presence of a gathering of her brethren. He led her to a dais, upon which stood a grand, plush chair, almost akin to a throne. He commanded her to take the seat in his left, Ryder grinned at her wolfishly, from his right.

The Wolves stood like sentinels either side and two more stood on the floor in front of them.

Santana took a moment to observe a round her.

A veranda ran round the whole of the room. She could make out the figures of her brothers and sister lounging over the banister, the dim light reflected off their fangs and shining eyes. Others sat at the long tables that lined the walls of the room, laughing and cajoling each other. The wet, dull thud of a body falling from the veranda, hitting the stone floor caused her to jump and the guffaws from the ranter's echoed round the room. There was a clear space in the middle were vampires drank from unresisting thralls or filled their goblets from decanters, rebel rousing and hooting at one another.

They danced and cavorted, leaving lingering touches and playfully blowing kisses.

Sebastian sat back and watched with mirth.

Ryder pulled over a homely looking, fresh, thrall gouging his thumbnail into her neck, allowing the thick liquid to spurt into three goblets. He held her until she, twitching, drained completely. Santana saw the woman's eyes roll back in her head before Ryder, unceremoniously dropped her from the dais onto the floor below. He handed a goblet to Sebastian and one to her,

"My lady." He bowed and smirked at her, maliciously. "I do hope you shall enjoy the show."

Santana took a sip of the warm, sanguine fluid.

It had surprised her when she found out that when she was not starved for days and set upon a blood frenzy, she could actually keep herself in check and feed quite calmly. It gave her a small sense of hope that she had not turned into a complete monster.

Sebastian stood up from his seat, raising his hands. The room fell into a hushed silence and all eyes trained upon him.

"My fellow brethren," He began, "Many of you here, like me, do not belong to a House. And I ask you, why should they have all the power? Why should they be allowed to lay down rules that benefit only themselves and expect the rest of us yield?"

There came a rumble of agreement.

"Many of you believe that the Houses are out dated and stifling. That they are too soft on the mortals. "He took a long draft from his goblet. "And I for one agree!"

He glided down from the dais and began to pace as he continued, raising his voice,

"We have all heard the tales, of the one who created his own. The House of Vlad. He became great and powerful, with huge armies at his command and he ruled over a glorious kingdom for centuries. Kings and Men of influence came from far and wide to grovel at his feet, begging to be spared. He was fair, all he asked in return was to be paid fealty with blood. Eventually they rose up against him. Some believe him to have passed into legend; others say he shall rise again."

Santana listened as the room broke into hoots and hollers in acknowledgement of the one they called Vlad. She had no idea as to who he was, but he sounded terrifying.

She made a note to herself to ask Lucinda, as she was such a history nut.

Sebastian broke into gales of laughter, unable to contain himself. Taking another draft from his goblet, he calmed himself,

"However!" He held up his hand, raising his voice over the din, "I intend to do it a little differently. I intend to show these mortals that we ought to be feared. That we are their true masters and we _allow _them to live! He opened both arms outstretched and roared, "Who's with me?"

The hall disintegrated in to pandemonium as the other vampires around her banged anything they could lay their hands on, against any surface they could find. The screams and shouts rose into a deafening crescendo.

Santana gripped her goblet until her knuckles turned white. The very thought of Sebastian in any position of power in any capacity of a world stage shook her to her core.

It could not be allowed to happen. The world would be doomed.

Once more, he addressed his audience,

"I have a treat for you!" He gestured to a corner of the room. "Bring out the traitor!"

Two vampires dragged between them a sandy haired man, his shirt hung loosely from his chest, his breeches were tattered and his feet were black with dirt. He wrung his hands, nervously and his blue eyes were blown with fear.

He was brought to the centre of the cleared space. The vampires took a step back, waiting expectantly. Santana watched as others approached, slipping from the shadows to create a semi circle around his.

It struck Santana how frail he was in their midst.

Sebastian gracefully made his way over to the petrified man. He began circling him,

"You spoke of us to those you shouldn't have."

"No I didn't! I swear I didn't!" The man adamantly denied.

"I have spies everywhere." Sebastian told him. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No! No!" The sandy haired man ferverantly shook his head.

Sebastian continued to circle, his tone full of mocking delight,

"Either you are lying or you are calling me a liar? Which is it?"

The man's face became haunted, caught in the trap of his own words, his eyes darted round the room looking for escape.

Santana could only watch in pity, knowing he would find none.

"What shall I do with you?" He turned to his audience, like a showman, yelling up into the eves. "What shall we do with the traitor?"

Excited catcalls of Death and Enthrallment came back in answer. Sebastian turned to the terrified man,

"It would seem that Death is your sentence." He turned to the vampires in the semi-circle, "Prepare him!"

They caroused around the man, tearing at what little clothing he had left, pushing and shoving him back and force, their faces twisted masks of cruelty. They swiped at his face with their nails, raking his skin whilst he sobbed and whimpered.

Sebastian turned to his audience once more,

"And the nature of his death?"

Over the cackles and shrieks of laughter, Santana could hear a murmur of Wolves.

Sebastian cupped his hand round his ear in the manner of a bard and playfully called,

"I can't hear yooou! What say you?"

"Wolves, Wolves, Wolves!" came the chant, accompanied by the banging of goblets and the stamping of feet.

"No! No!" The man begged, reaching out to tug on Sebastian's sleeve, letting go of his modesty, "Please!"

Her Master stood back, his lips drawn into a devilish smirk, his fangs glinting wickedly,

"The Masses have spoken, who am I to deny them their entertainment after I promised?"

The man gibbered,

Please no! I'll do anything, I'll give you anything!"

Her Master, poked him in the head, hissing,

"You have nothing I want!"

Sebastian made his way over to the dais, hopping up lightly and flopping back in his chair. He motioned with his goblet and a thrall appeared filling it to the brim.

He half turned to Santana,

"I'm sure that self righteous bitch Lucinda has made you aware that we are not the only creatures that frequent the nether world?"

Santana nodded, eyes glued to the lonesome figure in the centre of the room. He grinned at her,

"Well at least she's good for something."

Raising his hand, he clicked his fingers. The hulking masses surrounding the dais transformed before her very eyes. She had to squeeze and twist them in order to taken the multitudes of shapes and body parts, forming and reforming as human legs became hocks, snouts and jaws replaced noses and lips and hands and feet became giant paws.

Four, gigantic slobbering hounds circled the man. Urine trickled down the back of his legs as he bubbled and squeaked for mercy.

All four fell upon him, ravaging muscle and flesh as he screamed and howled.

Santana averted her gaze in disgust, unable to with stand it. Her eyes brimmed with emotion at the savagery. She heard the crack of bone and the snarls of the wolves as they tore him limb from limb.

Sebastian lightly took her jaw to look into her eyes. He leant forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

"My dear, Welcome to the House of Bastian!"

X

**Ps.. and there we have some of the Houses and discord. **


	10. Chapter 10

I am astounded at the response with all your pm's and reviews.

Thankyou all . I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

For those of you who are worried about Seb's control and hints at certain behaviours, I assure you it shall not happen. I do not condone it or write of that nature, I may be dark but I aint that dark.

Do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzerland. Late 1680's. Current House of Dubois._

X

Brittany rested her brow against the cool, dark door of the dining room, picking out the pattern engrained in the timber as she listened to the raised voices that reverberated from within.

The memories from the thrall, of a log cabin surrounded by virginal snow on a mountainside, a homely wife and young son, of warmth, love and deep affection, played over in her mind.

He had given himself willingly in grief of his loss. He had been a caring husband and doting father and had not deserved his painful end.

Kurt had attempted to lighten her mood, but having many brethren he called friends within the House, he had found it hard to raise himself from his own misery. When he asked if all had truly perished all she could see were nets made of silver, dragging them out kicking and screaming into the Sun. She had begged him to ask no more.

The door beneath her rattled slightly as she heard her Grand Dam yell,

"The Wolves would never make such a bold move, not under their own volition. The oaths and pacts of old have always been adhered to!"

She heard the caw of the crow and the voice of the witch,

"Maybe they seek revenge for what befell them due to the House of Vlad?"

"Vlad was a mistake!" She heard Charlotte, reply.

"A mistake _they_ suffered for!" The witch spat, "The humans hunted their children and wore their skin as clothing!"

Charlotte scoffed,

"Because the Mystics have always been so merciful towards them? You hounded them from your shores, if I am correct and quite viciously by all accounts!"

The witch sniffed,

"We did, at the time, what needed to be done."

"Enough!" Holly roared, "Arguing amongst ourselves is not going to get us anywhere. I shall send word to the leaders of the wolf packs asking them of news, until then somebody needs to go to the House of Methuselah and find out what really happened."

"I shall go." She heard her dam volunteer, "I need to make enquires as to my sister's whereabouts, I fear I have left it too long as it is."

"And what of the girl?" The witch asked.

"Leave her out of this!" Her maker demanded, "I shall not allow you to use her in your schemes."

Holly's voice cut in between the two women,

"We do not yet know what she is capable of, but I think it is time that we attempt to find out."

"Please," Charlotte begged, "Not this evening, she is exhausted and raw. The business with the thrall deeply affected her."

A thrall banged out of the doors, causing Brittany to flinch.

She had heard enough.

Turning on her heel, she fled to her room throwing herself on to the large, soft bed and burrowing deep into the blankets.

She heard the click of the door opening and footfalls approaching. The bed dipped behind her and she heard the rustle of taffeta as a familiar hand reached out to draw the hair from her face.

"Come here, my sweet."

Brittany shifted, nestling into the safe embrace of her Mistress. They remained in silence, holding each other.

"Please don't go!" The youngling pleaded, wrapping her arms tight round the older vampire's torso.

Charlotte nuzzled into her hair, murmuring,

"I have no wish to leave you, little one, but I must. I am the closest and the only one Holly trusts."

"Take me with you." Brittany breathed against the crook of her maker's neck, her voice sounding tiny and fragile.

Charlotte rocked her gently,

"It may be fraught with perils. I cannot risk of exposing you to such dangers. No Mother could." She stood up, asking gently, "Come now, lets get you settled."

She guided the young vampire to her casket as Brittany stifled her sobs. The youngster clambered into her coffin, sinking into the cushioning velvet whilst Charlotte settled her skirts and the pillow beneath her head.

The door clicked open and the bald vampire, from earlier in the evening, poked in his head,

"Miss Charlotte, the stage coach a waits. It would be most prudent to leave before first light."

"One moment Vargo." Charlotte said as she tenderly stroked her offspring's face.

Brittany gripped her hand tightly not willing to let go or be parted from the only semblance of comfort she had known since her rebirth.

"I shall return for you. I promise. Until then, you must remain here, where I know you are safe." She squeezed the girl's hand, "Do you understand?"

Brittany nodded, miserably. Her Mistress carefully laid Brittany's hands across her stomach before leaning down and placing a light kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep, little one. I shall be back before you know."

Brittany kept her eyes trained on the hazel ones of her dam, until the last possible moment as Charlotte closed the lid of the casket, engulfing her in darkness. She listened intently to the retreating footsteps and the soft click of the door.

"I need you." She whispered into the dark.

With an aching loneliness, she cried herself to sleep.

X

She felt beneath her the softness of a bed and the weight of a blanket draped across her legs and hips. A slender, caramel arm wrapped tightly around her waist and a small, soft body pressed against her back. Warm, shallow breaths tickled the nape of her neck and the smell of roses under lain with the spicy, sweet aroma of Songbird, hung heavy in the air.

She turned over. Her eyes alighted upon the serene face of Santana, drinking in the curve of the apple of her cheek and her long dark, sweeping lashes.

She was filled with a sense of longing and a need.

Lightly tracing her fingers over her tanned brow, she caressed her cheek and gently pressed a kiss to her plump, full, parted lips.

Santana's eyes fluttered open at the contact, a lazy smile creeping across her face,

"What's wrong, my love?" She asked her voice raspy with sleep.

Brittany snuggled closer into the smaller girl's warmth, entwining their legs and wrapping her hand into silky, tresses.

"I need you." She whispered with urgency before crashing their lips together.

She felt Santana snake her hand round her back, pulling her closer, moulding their bodies effortlessly. She let out a whimper as her tongue met Santana's and they danced together, kissing each other, hungrily. Grinding against her, she could feel her lover's wetness upon her thigh.

Santana flipped them over, gripping her wrists, pinning her to the mattress. Brittany pined as she felt lips break away from her own. She felt Santana draw her tongue lightly over the curve of her ear, causing her to shiver, as she husked,

"Tell me what you want?"

"I want you." Brittany breathed. "Only you!"

She felt Santana chuckle against her skin before she nibbled and nipped down along her neck, sucking on her pulse point. Brittany hissed in pleasure, bucking her hips into the smaller girl, throbbing with want.

"Please!" She begged.

She felt Santana adjust her grip in her wrists and the soft caress of finger tips down along her colour bone and the swell of her pert breast. Brittany looked into dark eyes full of mischief and lust and the devilish smirk as Santana drew her nails down her torso. She arched her back as she felt the brunette take her nipple into her warm, wet mouth and begin to languidly swirl her tongue. She let out a gasp as Santana began to suckle, trailing her hand down along the groove of the blondes hip.

Brittany's legs fell open voluntarily as her lover's fingers fluttered over her throbbing heat. She let out a low moan as Santana drew out the pleasure, entering her slowly..

Her Songbird let go of her wrists, laying herself flush against her so they were, hip to hip and breast to breast. She cupped Brittany's cheek, resting their foreheads together. Brittany looked deep into her eyes, wrapping her long legs around her, pulling her closer as Santana's thrusts became deeper and more forceful, her hands wrapping into dark, locks.

They panted and moaned into each other's lips, sharing ferverant whispers and promises as they exchanged hungry kisses, their bodies' slick with sweat, rocking desperately into each other.

Brittany felt her skin tingle with electricity and her toes begin to curl as her orgasm rapidly approached. She felt herself stiffen as Santana crooked her fingers deep inside her and bit down into the soft flesh of her pale neck, sucking hard, causing her to cry out her lovers name into the night.

She trembled and quaked as the soft body above her, collapsed into her completely and she could feel damp, quick breaths upon her collarbone.

She nuzzled into Songbird's hair, wrapping her arms tight around her, holding her close, never wishing to let her go.

"I'll find you," She whispered, "I promise, I'll find you."

X

Brittany opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by the darkness of her casket.

She had had another dream and she had felt everything.

She could feel a deep throbbing and slick wetness between her legs. Her hand flew to her neck and her fingers came away sticky. Hesitantly, she sucked her fingertips to be met with the all too familiar taste of blood.

She knew that she could effect her Songbird but she had not realised it could happen the other way round.

Her skin itched, telling her that it was still daylight and as much as she wished to find Holly, she knew that she would have to sit in the safety of her coffin until nightfall.

Smiling to herself, she relaxed back. Until then, she would happily replay the visions of her dream.

X

**Ps. This is my first time attempting smut (im guessing it shows) and I'll tell you something. It's bloody hard! **

**I prostrate myself on my knees before all you ff writers out there who do it oh so well. I applaud you all! **


	11. Chapter 11

Thankyou to all of you who reviewed and all your encouraging comments about the smut ..

Thankyou all . I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

I took a much needed break yesterday. Hope you all had a good weekend.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Again these ficlets and oneshots do not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Italy. Late 1680's. House of Bastion._

X

Santana paced her small cell, she might as well start calling home, muttering to herself in the dark, stopping every now and then to take in the heavenly, intoxicating aroma of Brittany and remind herself that it had, in fact, been real.

It had happened again, the surreal dreams, if she could call them that.

One minute she had been here in her casket and the next she had been _'there'_, wherever there was. Not that she was complaining, as '_there_' was far better than anything she could conjure up in her own imagination and especially compared to her current surroundings.

She went over it in her head, trying to piece it all together and make sense of it all, briefly getting distracted by images of Brittany writhing beneath her, flitting across her memory and causing her to short circuit. Shaking her head, she muttered to herself

"Concentrate Lopez!"

She continued to pace.

Right, what did she know?

One . In the dreams, she would settle for calling them that, for now, they were human, sort of, and they were together as a couple, she could feel it and in her bones, that they just knew each other..

It almost seemed like another life. A road un travelled or rather, another universe completely.

Two. They could affect each other and feel each other. That much was obvious, as she had woken up with the evidence all over her fingers and in her mouth.

She licked her fingertips and could barely hold back the small moan that escaped her lips at the lingering taste.

It meant that they could communicate on some level and had some sort of connection, but how did it work?

Hopping into her coffin, she lay back and began to twiddle her thumbs, deep in thought, mulling over everything she could remember about the odd experiences.

The first time it had happened, she had been trapped in the nightmare of her crimes. She had been grief stricken and guilt ridden. She had not consciously called out to Brittany, not that she could remember, and Santana had found herself suddenly whisked away from all the pain and the hurt to somewhere beautiful and to Brittany.

But last night she had heard a distinct desperate plea of 'I need you!' on the edges of her dreams and she had felt a pulling sensation before waking up 'elsewhere'.

Not that she minded, not at all.

Maybe it was only under intense duress that these links, or what ever you wanted to call them, were formed.

It was almost as if it was an emotional conduit of sorts.

So maybe that was what Sebastian meant by Brittany being able to sense her?

Three. When she was in these dreams, she felt Sebastian's presence in her mind disappear and he seemed completely oblivious to it all. If he ever figured out that not only had she sensed her already but what he needed to do in order to invoke the connection, she had no doubt he would make good on his previous threat of Medici and wouldn't hesitate throwing her to that disgusting hog in any capacity.

She violently shuddered.

Under no circumstances could Sebastian find out.

She began chewing on her thumbnail, crinkling her brow.

Why did he need Brittany so badly?

She knew that it must have something to do with his megalomaniacal plans for power and glory and he meant to use Santana to some how control Brittany, but why was she so important?

Realisation slowly dawned her.

If Brittany could affect Santana in her dreams and make them seem real, what's to say she couldn't affect others and if so, to what extent? What if she could steal into someone's dreams and kill them whilst they slept?

Sebastian could find out anything he wanted and would not even have to lift a finger.

It was actually quite clever, but surely, it could not be all that simple.

She needed to know more about abilities and how they worked and luckily for her, she had her own encyclopaedia right across the hallway.

Excitedly alighting from her coffin, she padded barefoot across the stone paving and peeked out of the small window. The Pits had been abnormally quiet yet she did not want to run the risk of being caught. Taking once last glance, up and down, taking in all she could see, she stage whispered,

"Pssst! Psst!" She waited a moment before rising her voice a little, " Lucy La Flooozy!

A pair of hazel eyes burning with anger, peered back.

"I told you not to call me that!"

Santana ignored her,

"What do you know about abilities and how they work?"

The blond, snapped from the depths of her cell.

"What makes you think I know anything at all?"

"Ahh sure you do!" Santana cajoled, "You're a know it all."

Lucinda eyeballed her, even in from the small hole, Santana could see that it was a glare that could turn men to stone, she had to give the girl credit for trying. Lucinda hissed,

"Why should I be talking to one of Sebastian's whores?"

"For your information China Doll, I'm not. If I was, do you think I'd be locked down here with the likes of you?" She held up her silver manacles to the window, clacking them together, causing her to wince at the burn, "And wearing matching charm bracelets too."

"Maybe, you're just a wayward blood fiend?"

"Jesus, I wish! If I was blood fiend that weasel would have me out of here in a flash and running free upstairs, enjoying myself."

There was a heavy pause, followed by a sigh,

"Fair point! Why _are_ you locked down here anyway? He's your maker; shouldn't you be fawning all over him begging to suck him dry?"

"Lucinda!" Santana mock gasped, holding her hand to her chest, "And there was me thinking you were a lady." She heard the blond snort. Santana continued, "What if I was to tell you somebody else got there first. That Sebastian wasn't the first vampire I met that night."

"I'd say I was right. You are a whore!" The small blond sniped back.

Santana chuckled at the hazel eyed vampire's annoyance. She was just so easy to rile.

"Come on now Lucinda, you're not being very nice."

"Alright, alright." Lucinda conceded, "So you met another vampire who bit you and then Sebastian turned you."

"Something like that."

"What is it like Santana?"

"She kissed me and maybe she bit me and then she ran off.."

"How romantic!" Lucinda scoffed.

Santana bristled, sometimes she wished she could break down the door and slap Lucinda silly, instead she swallowed her bitter comment forcing herself to take a sweet tone,

"Enough about that. I need to know about abilities."

She saw Lucinda crinkle her brow and she could imagine her pulling on her bottom lip as she thought. Slowly, the blond began.

"Nobody really knows why some vampires gain the abilities they do but usually they stem from something you were good at or something cataclysmic in your past life."

"Like what?"

Lucinda inquired.

"Well, what were you good at?"

Santana quipped,

"Music, singing and stuff?"

"And what can you do now that you couldn't in your past life?"

"I can understand whatever any one says. For instance, what language are you speaking?"

"French of course, you idiot."

"Well I've never spoken or read a word of French in my life."

"But you're speaking it fluently."

"To me, it sounds like your all speaking Spanish."

"Hmm," Lucinda huffed pensively, "So because music is a language and you had an ear for sounds it came out as an ability to hear languages. Interesting."

"What's yours?"

Lucinda took a deep breath,

"I can sense Mystics. I had a rather nasty run in with one before. It was the reason why I was re born actually. I've heard of vampires who can read minds some can see aura's, sense Versipellis, there's a number of abilities have appeared in offspring and some can even have multiple."

Santana mulled the new information over. She did not want to give it away that it was an ability belonging to Brittany, and if some vampires could have multiple, what was stopping Brittany having multiple. She struggled to gain her words,

"Do you think would it be possible for a person to gain the ability to, if you will, move through dreams?"

"It would be highly unusual and very dangerous. I would say if it was possible that it would be prudent for that particular vampire to keep such information to themselves as they would not last very long if it became known. The one place that is any beings sanctuary is in their dreams." There was a small pause, "By the way I just said that in German."

"I guess that proves my point."

"Uncanny." Lucinda replied in disbelief.

The sounds of heavy bolts being lifted and a number of chains dragging against stone could be heard coming down the passageway.

"New recruits." Santana mumbled before receding into the shadows of her cell.

She did not wish to look upon their human faces, it made the guilt of feeding from them after they were thralled easier to bear.

She shifted back into the darkness, climbing back into her coffin.

Santana knew, now more than ever she would have to be careful. Brittany had promised to find her, and if Santana told the golden haired vamp where she was, she was most certainly leading her into a trap.

She could not run the risk of Sebastian getting his hands on someone with such a powerful ability.

X

**Ps. Some of you were asking about abilities and what not, but never fear, our darling little Songbird hasn't realised she may have something wrong. **


	12. Chapter 12

For the Guests that sent reviews, just to clear a few things up about Britt's abilities.

Britt and San have a connection, that can only be accessed by dreams (for now) and yup, its because of San's Mystic blood.

San hasn't figured her end out yet, so for now its just Brittany creating the conduit.

They share an emotional bond, which they are just figuring out.

Now Britt's actual ability is, she can access people's memories and make them real for them; unfortunately she may also get some of the residual emotions of those memories.

So the bad thrall that she burned, she pretty much burned him cause he was a bad man and she was mad at him, but she was feeling sans distress and she took it out on the bad thrall.

Thankyou all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_German/Czech Borders. 1690. Bohmerwald. _

X

They had travelled a number of weeks, before arriving in a small town on the edge of the Sumava, a forest so thick, it was said that no living man had ever traversed its depths.

This far away from real civilisation, the rules and the people were different. Here, a select few human's knew of their existence.

The town elders remembered the stories of old, of slobbering creatures, with glowing eyes, that resembled not quite wolves yet not quite men, appearing from deep within the woods to ravage them and their livestock. The elders had assured her that they had nothing to do with what had occurred and Charlotte had been inclined to believe them. They had smelt of unease and fear of what may come to claim them from the safety of their homesteads.

Unlike vampires, Versipellis could enter uninvited.

The thick of winter would soon hold them in his grasp and with Sophia gone, so too was their protection and the comfort that they could sleep soundly in their beds.

Charlotte had seen in the etched lines of their faces and the haunted look in their eyes, that they wondered, how long before the creatures of legends, crawled from out of the darkness, driven by hunger and revenge?

When Methuselah fell and Vlad laid claim to the strategically placed castle in the remote Bohmerwald in the centre of Europe, he had allowed the packs to roam free and to do as they pleased, as was the agreement for helping him. They lay waste to the outlying towns and villages, devouring all in their path.

Many thought all was lost until the humans rose up, tearing Vlad from his false throne, dashing him to ashes and beating back the beasts.

But they hadn't stopped there.

Lyubitshka had been right, the humans had hunted the Packs within an inch of their lives. No wolf like creature or large dog had been spared and the forest floor had run red with blood.

The Packs had repaid them in kind and so the vicious cycle had continued until the Council of Houses came to the decision to put an end to it and appointed Sophia guardian of the borders.

She had brought a semblance of peace to the mountain range asking only for the dying as payment. The outlying towns and villages owed it to her that they had not been wiped out by the plague, like the rest of Europe.

She had not allowed her charges to hunt freely, instead, they had taken from the bountiful forest and left the carcasses at the doors of the struggling and poor.

With her exceptional political skills, she had understood that deals and sacrifices needed to be made. That to terrorise the humans into submission would only result in more unnecessary bloodshed.

From what the blond woman could remember, Sophia had been a round, exuberant woman, who claimed, even re birth could not stop her jolly personality from exuding. She had made an excellent Mother and leader. Her forward thinking and gentle hand had been the reason why she had been appointed in the first place.

The local inhabitants had nothing to gain in taking part in such an attack. They knew that to upset the delicate balance would be foolish.

The elders could not recall anything out of the ordinary, maybe there had been more fur trappers than usual that season, but fur trappers disappearing into the woods at the height of spring was common place, just as it was common place for not all of them to return in the autumn.

The locals never ventured far, only as far as they must, for they knew what lurked in the dense vegetation and stalked through the dead of night.

They had no wish to meet them.

X

They had left their carriages and thralls behind. The weather had made the log pony trails treacherous and the excess baggage would only slow them down. What would be at least a week's travel, the vampires could accomplish on foot in a matter of two evenings.

Vargo knew of the safe boltholes dotting the forest floor, having frequented the path many times in his life. He had shown Charlotte the markings on the trees indicating the vampire trails and the scratches left by the Packs.

In the early hours of the second evening, they had come across the clearing, bathed in moonlight, where the House of Methuselah had once stood. One corner remained, reaching up into the sky, a mournful reminder of its grandeur.

Slipping through the gates, the two vampires observed around them. The castle had been blown to smithereens. Debris lay scattered, like jagged, rotten teeth, dark and ominous, poking out from underneath a blanket of stark white, fresh snow.

It was eerily quite, not even the hoots of the owls could be heard.

A crunch echoed across the clearing causing Charlotte to whip round in a defensive posture, hand to the dagger at her hip.

"Sorry." Vargo whispered bashfully.

He began toeing the snow out of the way to reveal an arm, the hand was twisted and gnarled as if it had been clutching desperately to the last seconds of life.

"It's been so cold, it's perfectly preserved."

"There is some sort of sorcery here. Even the forest creatures have not come to scavenge." She said quietly into the night.

Holly had brought her sister and herself to the House on a handful of occasions, wishing her newborns to meet such an esteemed member of their brethren.

She remembered the young children running and playing in the grounds or curled up by the roaring fires in exhaustion. Charlotte had met her first adult Versipellis, here in the drawing room, lounging on sofa in its Wolf form.

It had made no difference to Sophia.

When questioned why she allowed Pack members to roam her home she had simply stated, that closing hers doors would only breed suspicion, opening them would cultivate trust. Sophia would have made sure to keep the old pacts intact and if any trouble had been brewing, she would have sent word.

The Packs were known to be protective of their territory and it would have been in their best interests to protect the House, unless something with the Packs had gone terribly wrong.

Still, with the protection spells in place, this far into the forest, Sophia and her children should have been safe,

Shielding her eyes, she scanned the depths of the timberland. She could not shake the feeling that they where being watched.

She shivered further into her furs

It was times like this when she really missed Lucinda's ability for sensing Versipellis and Mystics.

Meandering through the wreckage of bricks, mortar and wood, with Vargo close at her heels, she stepped into what she remembered was the great entrance hall. She remembered the sweeping hallways, the turrets and the plush furniture, colourful tapestries and paintings of their ancestors had hung from the walls.

She had not expected to find any ornaments or anything thing of value, the fur trappers and villagers would have most likely picked it clean of anything of value.

What could have caused an explosion so big as to turn it all to detritus?

Her eyes landed on an imprint in the snow. Crouching down she placed the heel of her palm into the heel of the pad, it dwarfed her small hand at least five times over. Not the largest she had seen but not the smallest either.

It definitely did not belong to a pack leader. Something else was missing. Usually with a pack in their own territory, pad prints were normally surrounded by smaller ones, the ones of ordinary wolves.

In thought, she picked up a handful of snow. Rubbing her hands together, she watched as the white powder trickled through her fingers. The attack had to be at least two months old, maybe more, depending how long it had taken the thrall to get to Vargo in the first place, yet these tracks still remained, almost undisturbed.

A hollow, long, drawn out whistling sound to her left, caught her attention. Motioning to Vargo she picked her way across what had once been the parlour, gracefully she hopped up onto a charred, bevelled eve, and underneath she could spy a gaping hole with stone steps leading down into the dark. Turning to the older looking vampire, she asked,

"Are you up for exploring?"

"Lead the way my lady."

She slid the rafter out of her way as if it was as light as a plate upon a table. The sound of it dragging across the stone floor reverberated round the clearing.

"So much for the element of surprise." She quietly offered.

Cautiously she stepped into, what would be to a human, enveloping dark but her keen eyesight it seemed only deep twilight. She could hear the slap of her sodden, fur boots upon the stone and the odd gait of Vargo close behind.

The staircase wound down, leading them into a huge cavernous catacomb. Empty, long cubby-holes lined the walls. Various coloured splinters and shards of lacquered wood lay strewn across the floor mingled in with the stuffing of horsehair and duck down, spilling out from cushions. The funerary boxes had been smashed to pieces, the linings torn to shreds and the hinges buckled as the lids had been wrenched off.

Who ever had attacked this place had literally torn her brethren from their beds as they slept.

Spying a casket semi intact, she flipped the lid, no longer caring how much noise she made. Inside she could see a pile of ash and a crudely fashioned stake.

She now knew how the snow that had blown in had to turned into a deep, grey slush. It had melted and mixed in with the ash of her brothers and sisters, she was loath to step in it.

Vargo poked a discarded bucket and let out a yelp as the contents dribbled over his fingers, causing his flesh to sizzle and burn.

He was about to suck his fingers when Charlotte moved beside him, grabbing his wrist,

"Don't!" She warned, "It is Priest's Bane. Wipe it on your clothes."

She kicked the bucket, sending it flying across the room where it shattered into a hundred pieces. Twirling the stake in her hand, she began to pace.

"They came in the daylight, poured buckets of Priest's Bane on them and staked them in their sleep or whilst they burned. They never stood a chance."

"It was a god damn massacre." Vargo breathed.

"How many slept here?" She asked, walking deeper into the cavern. Brittany had said the exits had been blocked.

"Twenty odd, give or take."

Further in rats squeaked and chewed on the frozen bodies of what she assumed were thralls. She noticed that not all had been bitten, some had been sliced. Versipellis did not use weapons as a rule, they preferred to get dirty and use their ungodly gifts.

"Damn rats, they will eat anything." Vargo complained, crinkling his nose in disgust, "I always wondered how they manage to survive."

"They are very resilient creatures Vargo and to some people, a gold mine." She replied.

Pressing further still, she followed the current of the wind, back until she found what she was looking for. Yet another gaping doorway, except this time the hinges were bevelled into the room, not out.

Something had broken in.

Peering into the gloom, the hackles on her neck stood up and she spun round like lighting, clawing her way up the cubby-holes at break neck speed, until she was out of reach. Turning back to look at the doorway, she bared her fangs and hissed,

"Show yourselves!"

A low, guttural growl came from the subterranean darkness.

She heard bones cracking and sinew reconnecting. There was a sigh and the silence of a pop.

Out of the shadows stepped, a dark skinned young man. A thick, black strip of hair ran down the centre of his head and along his neck, much like the style of the Germanic tribes that used to inhabit these woods, centuries ago. Heat rose from his naked, sculptured form in waves. Stepping further into the vault, his bright yellow eyes, observed Charlotte coolly.

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands." He chuckled at her.

Charlotte spotted the darkness behind Vargo shift,

"Vargo!" She called out in warning..

The older looking vampire twitched to the side, dissipating into cloud of smoke, just as a tall, large, heavy girl lunged at him from the gloom. She spun in surprise, looking for him. He reformed, nestled into the supporting arch of a pillar.

"Neat trick." The girl exclaimed, stunned.

"You were saying?" Charlotte snidely, replied,

"You are trespassing on our territory and so must pay the price." The young man snarled.

"This is the House of Methuselah!" She screamed back.

"Not any more! As you can see little blood sucker, we are many and you are few!" The young man gestured with both his hands, never taking his eyes from the blond vampire.

She observed the situation. The girl and one of her cohorts had taken to jumping up and down under the old vampire. More Versipellis of all ages had entered the room, some remained in Wolf form, pacing backwards and forwards, eyeing her hungrily.

Two against a pack, they would barely stand a chance

"You could make a break for it, but so late in the night we would make sure you wouldn't see the safety of the dirt before sunrise."

It was as if he was reading her mind. She took a gamble.

"I am Charlotte of Dubois and this is Vargo, we come here to find what befell our brethren, and if the pacts of old still stand, we have the right to see your pack leader."

The heavyset girl watched her owlishly before whispering in the young man's ear.

"She's not lying, the snobby bitch is literally sweating self righteousness."

The young man beneath her snickered,

"Well why didn't you say so. A friend of Sophie's is a friend of ours."

"What assurances do I have we shall not be harmed?" Charlotte demanded.

The tanned man grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows

"None! But that's a risk you're going to have to take."

She clung to the wood beneath her fingertips, shooting Vargo a look. He shrugged back at her.

"Tick tock!" The young man teased. "You don't have much time."

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I'm Noah, my wolf name is Puck. Now will you get down because I don't want to have to explain to my leader why I'm carrying you back in an urn!"

X

**Ps, hope u like it guys and dolls. Let me know what you think. **


	13. Chapter 13

Thankyou all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzerland. 1690. Current House of Dubois._

X

Brittany padded into the warm study and was greeted by the sight of Holly and Kurt fussing other each other's outfits.

"You don't need the cloak, it's too much!" Her grand dam, chided.

"I'm a Prince and when going out in this weather these are the cloaks we wear."

"Not any more." Rolling her eyes, Holly reminded him. "Besides, it's not as if you can feel the cold anyway."

"That's not the point." The young man sniffed.

Holly held out a black, thick, woollen cloak.

"Wear this one instead, Kurt. You wouldn't want yours to get ruined now would you?"

Shrugging out of the royal blue cloak with a bear fur trim, he un ceremonially dumped it on the lounge sofa in a sulk, snatching at the other one Holly offered.

"Oh alright, but can I at least keep the gloves?"

"Sure." She chuckled back. Smiling, her green eyes landed on the youngster in the doorway, "Ah Brittany you're here. You found the outfit I left for you!"

When she had woken, she had found on the bed a pair of red woollen breeches, stockings, deerskin boots lined with fur that came to her mid calf, a loose fitting shirt and heavy woollen vest. She found she preferred the breeches to the dresses she had become accustomed to.

"Why? What's going on?"

Holly's smile widened and her eyes twinkled with merriment,

"After all your hard work, I thought it would be nice to get out of the house and go to the Krampusnacht celebration."

Over the last fee months, in an attempt to distract the youngling from how much she missed her Mistress, Holly had been encouraging her to practise and explore her abilities, she had gone so far as to attempt them on Kurt a few times, but to no avail. Brittany furrowed her brow, attempting to roll her tongue round the strange word,

"What's Krampushhh blaa de bla?"

Kurt began to, comically, tiptoe around her with his fingers clawed, hunching his back and lowering his voice as if telling a chilling ghost story,

"Krampusnacht is the night when Krampus, the hairy devil, visits the homes of naughty children, spiriting them away to hell, leaving behind only those who deserve presents from St Nick."

"Is he real?" Brittany asked, wide eyed.

"Who knows? Nobody who has seen him has lived to tell the tale." Kurt gripped the ends of his cloak, raising them like wings. Baring his fangs, he twisted his face into a mock grimace, playfully lunged towards her and hissed, "Hekkkkk"

Brittany's tone suddenly became serious,

"He sounds like a bully. We need to stop him." She turned to Holly imploring, "Think of the children!"

Kurt dropped the ends of his cloak and blinked at the blond girl. Shaking her head, Holly bit her bottom lip to stifle her giggles as she caught the slight upward twitch at the corner of Brittany's mouth.

"Oh my God!" Kurt gasped, "You're pulling my leg!"

"No, this is pulling your leg." Brittany made a grab at the young man's breeches, chasing him round the study.

They ran round the table, swatting at each other, letting out little whoops and ahhs when the other dodged or missed.

Holly clapped her hands together and addressed them in a faux, stern tone,

"Children! Children! Breakfast first or we won't be going any where."

The two young vampires immediately looked pained at the thought of missing such a celebration and obediently flopped themselves in the adjacent armchairs,

Two thralls entered the room and began decanting blood into goblets. Taking one from the red head, Brittany thanked her.

After weeks of practise, she had come to know each and everyone of them personally through the memories, thoughts and feelings of their previous lives. Those that, for their own reasons, had given themselves willingly, she had found some sort of respect for and tended to be polite towards them.

Brittany steered clear of the others, who had been taken in order to stop them causing harm, in case she experienced a fit of temper and punished them.

After their feed, they shrugged themselves into woollen thigh length Justaucorps and affixed their dark woollen cloaks. Holly stuffed a fur lined deerskin lumber hat on Brittany's head, making sure to pull out her golden locks, settling them over her shoulders, before tying the flaps underneath her chin. Bopping her on the nose, she smiled at the young vampire,

"There, cute as a button." Turning to Kurt, she asked, "Are we ready?"

Both youngsters nodding in agreement, anxious to get to the bustle of the festival..

"Right, let's go. Who knows, we may even hunt tonight."

With Holly leading the way, they stepped out into the cloud-covered night.

X

Sticking to the trees, they sped down the hillside.

She was almost disappointed when they came to the edge of the coppice and she could see the lamps of the small city twinkling up ahead.

Brittany loved the crisp wind on her face and whipping back her hair, the feeling of letting go as she pistoned her legs as fast as she could, the timber falling away into a blur as she passed by. When she effortlessly leapt over boulders or huge fallen trees in her path, clearing them with metres to spare, she felt as if she was flying.

Coming to a halt, Holly and she waited for Kurt to catch up. His cloak had snagged on a tree branch and he had nearly torn it to shreds. Grumbling as he approached them, he attempted to tie it back together.

"Now," Holly joked, "Aren't you glad you didn't wear your other one."

"I don't see why we couldn't be like normal people and taken the carriage!" He whined.

Brittany spun herself round, enjoying the crunching sound her boots made as she broke the surface of the snow,

"Come on Kurt! It's the perfect night for a bit of a jaunt."

"Jaunts!" He snorted, "Jaunts do not ruin perfectly good clothing." He held up the remnants of his cloak as if in evidence.

Holly shook her head, smirking at him,

"Sometimes I think the after life and all its gifts are wasted on you!"

Throwing it over his shoulders, he managed to clip it back together. Following the two women along the track that led to the small city, he muttered under his breath, as he pulled at the material, dissatisfied at the way it hung. Seeing the two blonds had made great distance, he began to pick up his pace, calling after them,

"Hey, wait up!"

"Come on or Krampus will get yoooou!" Holly sing songed into the night.

Looking into the woods, he shivered and ran after his companions.

X

Meandering through the alleys of the mini metropolis, the three vampires strode through the crowds, looking just like any other visiting spectators out enjoying the festivities.

As they hit the thoroughfare, the sky had darkened and tiny flakes had gently begun to fall. Brittany observed them in fascination, her vampire eyes picking out each individual pattern, commenting on the delicate detail. The young vampire stuck out her tongue to catch them, skipping ahead, and jumping up to take bites of them out of the air. Kurt and Holly watched on in amusement.

Every now and then, they would spot crudely fashioned snowmen outside the smaller dwellings, with carrots for noses and coal for eyes, smiling and waving their twiggy arms in greeting.

Vendors shouted out, selling their wares of sweet roasted pine nuts, heated upon hot braziers, and strange meats on sticks. The smell of cooked flesh was heavy in the air.

Just as they entered the town square, a group of children of all ages, wrapped up in furs and woolly hats, careened past them in peels of laughter, their wooden sleds clattering on the cobbles stones behind them.

A small crowd had gathered and Brittany was glad that she had fed before they had arrived. They press of bodies and heartbeats surrounded her. She blocked them out, as she had been taught, concentrating on the rumbling of drums and the blaring of trumpets instead.

The square bristled with a contagious anticipation. The young vampire felt herself building up with a mixture of tension and excitement.

She turned to Holly, with her sapphire eyes shining,

"What's happening?"

"It's Krampus!" Holly announced, gleefully like a small child.

Any child that could be found had been pushed to the front of the crowd. Suddenly there came an almighty roar and the rattle of chains before a figure wearing black fur legs, a twisted, deformed goat mask and crudely fashioned horns broke into the square.

The children let out fake screams of terror.

The 'Krampus' snuffled and snarled, pawing at the ground, rattling his chains and waving a sack. He lunged at some of the children, who scampered away. Some of the older ones pushed each other, boldly, towards him.

Adults laughed at his antics, pointing out to their friends and families.

The Krampus made a lumbering dash at the boys' causing them to scatter, tittering and jeering him. He waved the sack one more time, high up so all the crowd could see, hopping from on foot to another, his black tail flicking behind him. Reaching out, he made as if to grab a tiny boy from his Mothers arms, the crowd waited with baited breath, the small boy, scrunched up his face, his cheeks went pink as he let out a high-pitched wail as he burrowed further into his Mothers neck.

A rock hard snowball hit the Krampus full force in the chest sending flying back into the snow on his ass.

The crowd burst into laughter.

Brittany threw another, this time she hit him in the shoulder. The older children followed suit, by pelting white missiles at the demonic caricature, missing and hitting the other side of the crowd. The youngling compacted another ice ball and flung it at Kurt, hitting him in the leg. Holly cracked one over his head.

Shaking the snow from his hair, he gave a mock growl,

"That's it, now you're going to get it!"

The air became thick with white projectiles. A bunch of revellers had spilled out from a tavern to see what the commotion was all about and join in the fun.

"Hey, do you and your sister want a hand?" A slightly inebriated voice called over the din of the square.

"Sure!" Brittany quipped, scooping up another handful of snow.

Kurt barely had time to protest before he was assaulted from all sides.

The town square had turned into pandemonium. Even Krampus had teamed up with some children, flinging white projectiles at adults and parents who threatened and cursed, claiming St Nick would not visit the feast.

People squealed in merriment, others made a break for it, attempting shelter in doorways only to be set upon by small groups who spotted them. All the while Brittany could hear Kurt's distinctive voice repeating,

"Not the face! Not the face!"

"Wuss!" She heard Holly yell as she pelted one at him.

She missed, hitting a reveller who comically fell back on his haunches, from the sheer force, just as a sheet of snow dislodged from the roof, dumping all over him. His friends spluttered and guffawed, waving their pewter tankards at him,

"Jesus!" One slurred, "What do they be feeding you up there?"

"Sorry!" Holly replied, holding up her hands innocently, "I guess I don't know my own strength!"

"It must be the mountain air!" Kurt offered, jovially, flinging another at Brittany, who gracefully dodged to one side.

The carousers helped their fallen comrade to his feet, his boots scrabbling to find purchase on the slippery cobblestones. Somewhere, nearby, the tinkle of broken glass could be heard followed by the rallying cry of,

"Shit, its rectory! Scatter!"

The crowd quickly dispersed,

A white haired man dressed in black robes, stood menacingly in the doorway, waving his fist angrily, screaming,

"Heathens, the lot of you! Penance will be paid come church day!"

"Oh shut up you old fart!" shouted one of the snowball infantry and the resounding thud of snowball on cloth followed.

The youngling giggled in excitement. The ruddy faced, young man ushered the three vampires towards the entrance of the tavern.

"Quick that's Father Thomas! Get inside before he blames us."

He stepped over the threshold, holding open the door, Kurt and Holly hesitated; Brittany went to take a step forward. Holly's hand snaked out gripping her wrist.

A chorus of grumbles and groans, hollering to stop letting the heat out, wrapped in the sounds of music and banging tankards could be heard from within.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation?" The young man asked, motioned with his hands, waving them in, "Come inside! This is the best spit roast in town!"

Holly relaxed her grip, tapping the excess snow from her boots against the log wall.

"Have you ever been to a Swiss beer house Brittany?"

The golden haired girl shook her head copying the older vampire. Kurt followed suit. Holly tweaked her cheeks, impishly,

"Well, my pet, you're in for a treat."

X

**Ps , the second half of this chap is written on paper, an in the middle of tweaking and research. I just really wanted to get this out to you. **


	14. Chapter 14

To the Guest who reviewed asking why Britt hasn't gone looking for san yet. Here's one of the reasons and its in the **ps**

Thankyou all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Switzerland. 1690. Krampusnacht._

X

Stepping into the beer house, the smell of sweet conifers, ale, warm bodies and flame, charred swine mixed all together wafted towards the vampires.

Brittany's eyes danced with awe at the sight before her.

Stone pillars supported low, elongated wooden rafters from which hung chandeliers, littered with dripping candles casting what little light they afforded into the hall. Sawdust and rushes soaked up the traipsed in snow and the ale that sloshed over the rims of the tankards as festivalgoers banged them together, toasting each other and bursting into deep rolling verses of folk songs, encouraging the bards to play.

They sat at broad, rectangle tables, with benches either side and candles in holders at the centre. At the far end, a roaring open fire leant its heat to the room and cooking the gigantic boar upon the spit. A broad man wearing a dirty white smock with thick arms turned the lathe spinning the pig. Every now and then, he would stop to allow one of the buxom serving wenches to carve chunks of the succulent smelling pork onto tin plates where they would weave amongst the crowds to serve customers.

Brittany's mouth watered in remembrance of the juicy, succulent meat she used to eat, sitting on her father's knee at the fireside in the dead of winter.

"Can we even eat and drink normal food?"

Kurt tried to wrap a brotherly arm round her shoulders; she stooped a little to accommodate him,

"We can eat and drink like them but I wouldn't recommend it. You will throw your guts up. However, if we wish to get drunk, all we have to do is feed from a drunk. We can imbibe alcohol, just a little differently from what you're used to."

As Holly jostled her way to the bar, Kurt guided her to an empty table. The young blond admitted,

"I've never been drunk before?"

The young man looked at her in shock,

"No, no! That shall not do!" He stood up, yelling over the crowd, "Holly, we have a green one on our hands."

Brittany saw Holly frown comically and wave her finger in having non of it gesture, as she began removing her hat and her cloak.

"What did that mean?"

"You shall find out soon enough."

Holly returned a short while later with three steaming tankards. Seating herself at the table, she pushed one in the youngling's direction.

"It's fruit tea with fruit schnapps." The flaxen vampire offered.

Brittany took a small sip, crinkling her nose, enjoying the warmth.

"And this is going to get me drunk."

Kurt gasped, wrapping his hands round his own,

"God no! .This is so we don't stand out too much" He pointed into the crowd, "One of them is going to get you drunk." He raised an eyebrow, questioningly, "What do you fancy?"

Holly took a sip of her own, flipping her long blonde hair. She addressed the youngsters,

"I'm in the mood to be lenient being its Krampus and all. Pick someone who will not be missed. The drunker and nastier, the better."

Brittany sat back and relaxed allowing herself so wander the minds and dreamscapes of all those around her.

X

After a few hours, the crowd in the beerhouse had begun to wind down. Kurt had quite spiritedly taken to setting off the bards and singing songs of the heroes of old. Brittany and her Grand dam had taken the offers of a dance from one or two bold men. The youngling's eyes had continuously scanned the crowds; ferreting out a few choices she felt would be quite fitting for their feast.

Holly flopped down beside her, waving away another would be suitor, claiming she needed to catch her breath. Kurt sank into the bench across from them.

"I don't feel too well." He whined.

Holly chided,

"Well that is what you get for spoiling your supper with drink. Anything caught your eye Honey bee?"

Brittany was caught mid mouthful, with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunks. She spat the tea back into the mug, nodding.

"There's that one there." She pointed at a brunette, currently sat on a mans lap, her boobs spilling out of her top, rosy cheeked and drunkenly cackling, "She's a whore."

Holly pinched her bottom lip, eyes roving over the woman in question,

"Naaa, sometimes a woman has to do what she does."

"How about him?" Kurt gestured to a handsome young blond man, barely out of his teens.

"You don't want him for his blood." Holly teased. "Besides, we said we would show a little St Nicholas spirit."

Kurt pouted,

"You can't blame me for trying."

Brittany stared over into a dark corner, at a skinny man whose eyes darted all around.

"There's the thief! He's a pickpocket and on occasion a highway man."

Holly followed her gaze,

"He's not drunk, he is doing the same as us and scoping out what he might be able to claim as his own by the end of the evening. Any others?"

"Well," Brittany began, "There is one."

She jerked her head over to the far corner where a dirty man with a wild beard was kicking up a ruckus, laughing and bellowing with his cohorts. He leaned out and smacked one of the serving girls hard across the ass, causing her to let out a yelp. His friend's guffaws carried over the rest of the revellers.

Holly leaned forward,

"I can tell by your face he disgusts you. What did he do?"

Brittany frowned,

"He likes to take women against their will."

Holly clapped her hands together, exclaiming,

"Perfect!

Suddenly the spit roast attendant and the barkeep accosted the bearded man by the back of his neck. They barrelled him through the crowd, roaring to make way as the bearded man struggled against them.

"The bitch wants it!" The bearded man yelled.

The two men picked him up by his arms and his legs and slung him out of the door. The hall erupted into an almighty cheer. Once the entertainment was over the festival goers went back to their celebrations.

Holly stood up, fixing her cloak and her hair,

"Master Kurt, I suggest you throw up and make room for the real feast."

His eyes lit up,

"We're going hunting?"

Brittany leapt to her feet in excitement. Crushing the cap on her head, she flung her cloak over her shoulders. They waited for Kurt to fix his appearance.

"I'm ready."

They calmly weaved their way through the crowd and out into the bitter night.

X

Brittany and Holly watched the bearded man's progress across the small square attempting to ignore the retching sounds behind them.

Kurt came out from round the corner of the building, fixing himself once more,

"Ahh I feel way better. I can't wait to have a proper drink."

"How shall we do this?" Brittany asked.

"I think I'm going to allow you two to have all the fun whilst I sit back and watch the show." Holly smiled at her squeezing her arms.

Brittany spun on her feet, trailing her hands down her body, suggestively.

"Kurt will you go on the roof tops to keep an eye on this poor, defenceless, lost lamb."

He shot her a smirk before leaping up and landing silently on the room of the beer house.

"See you in a while."

Brittany turned to find she was on her own. Grinning to herself, she set off, fleet footed across the square and into the dark, narrow, meandering alleyways of the slums of the city.

x

At such a late hour in the evening and with the celebrations in full swing, the alleyways far from the main thoroughfares were deserted and barely a creature stirred. The lanterns here, where sparse and those that were still lit spluttered their weak flames. Human visibility would be minimal and every sound cushioned and swallowed in the fast falling snow but Brittany still wished only to dance on the periphery of her prey's senses.

She lived for this, the thrill of the hunt, the calm before the storm.

The sugary sweet moment when the prey realised that they were not quite along. That second, when the soft thud in their ribcage suddenly rose into a constant pounding, calling to something feral, deep within her bones. That split second of blind, nervous panics, mingled in with whiff of hope that if they tried they might live.

The juicy moment when their skin quivered before they ran.

It was a thing of beauty.

She whisper sang softly,

"Laaa dee, laaa laaa de la."

A darker patch in the night, shifting and slithering noiselessly along the rooftops alerted her to Kurt's presence. She had no idea as to Holly's whereabouts. Further, ahead the drunken man staggered and weaved.

The youngling sped past him, bumping his shoulder ever so slightly. He lost his footing, careening into the wall, cursing and unaware as to what stalked him through the gloom.

She heard a belt unbuckle and observed as he dropped his breeches and began relieving himself. Heat curled up from where his hot urine met with the ice-cold snow. He began rotating his hips, spraying everywhere and chuckling to himself,

"Haaaa heeey!"

Her vampire eyes picked out Kurt, crawling slowly to the edge of the roof, not a foot above him. The young man reached down, flipping the hat off the reveller's head before retreating into the murk. Using the wall to keep himself upright, the drunk bent over, reaching and grabbing for his hat a number of times before his fingers grasped the rim.

Brittany let out a girlish giggle, wickedly.

The drunk straightened himself, dashing his hat off his thigh, peering into the slight blizzard.

"Who goes there?" he slurred, his eyes alighting on Brittany.

She stood in the centre of the alleyway a few feet away, digging the toe of her boot into the snow, swaying her hips and fixed him with her baby blues.

His face brightened. As he attempted to pull up his breeches and stuff his cock back into his pants, he leered,

"Hey pretty lady, what are you doing out here all on your own? Are you lost?"

She flashed him an innocent smile, twiddling the ends of her golden locks, coquettishly. She noticed that he closed his belt but made sure not to buckle it as he approached. He continued,

"You're a shy one aren't you?"

She simply nodded in reply, still swaying her hips.

"Come on, I'll show you the way back to the square." He indicated to a narrow alleyway's entrance, coaxing her, "This is a short cut."

She skipped over to him, throwing him a grateful look. She followed him down into the engulfing dark, flanked either side by high intimidating stone walls.

"What's your name?" He asked

"You know who and what we are!" She replied airily.

"I'd remember meeting you." He leered once more, ignoring how he misheard her.

Kurt stepped out of the shadows and Holly dropped lightly from the roof behind her. The drunk turned to young blond blocking the exit, gorganized, the whites of his eyes visible even in the flurry of snow. Brittany smiled at him, broadly, showing her fangs, her tone girlishly light,

"We are perchten of the Krampuslaufen, and you have been a very, _very_ naughty boy!"

X

Three revellers leant into each other staggering through the forest floor. Every now and them they would cackle and snort as one would trip over an unseen branch and land face first in the snow. They came to rest on a fallen log.

"Oh my god," Kurt hiccuped, "He was absholutely sloshed"

He attempted to drunkenly, recreate their prey's facial expressions. Holly let out a scream of laughter, slapping his thigh,

"His naked white ass! I couldn't tell the difference between the drift and his skin!"

Kurt handed her the water skin. She unplugged the stopper and took a huge gulp, gasping into the night,

"Jesus, you were right. He was sloshed." She handed the skin back to Kurt, "How many beers did he drink."

"I dunno, at leasht eight when I was watching him. Britty will know." He looked over his shoulder, "Wheres she?"

The two vampires called into the forest,

"Cooooo weeee whreere are you?"

"Honey beeee!"

"I'm right behind you!" The young blond called back.

They attempted to turn round. Over their shoulders, they could see the youngster spinning her self-round, her arms in the air, in nothing more than her boots and her breeches. Her perky breasts bounced with every graceful movement, as she lightly hopped from stone to bark.

"Haa haha she's polluted." Holly giggled.

"Where your clothesh?" Kurt asked, as he struggled to stand from the log.

Brittany waved her hand behind her,

"Over there, some where!"

Kurt shrugged himself out of what was left of his cloak.

"We need to cover you up, you'll catch your death!"

Brittany and Holly broke into gales of laughter that echoed round the forest floor at his words.

"Come on Britty!"

"No" She whined, "I hate clothes, we don't even need them."

Kurt made a lunge to wrap his cloak round the taller girl, who neatly stepped to one side. Kurt's intoxication and speed deposited him full force into a tree with a heavy thud.

The two blonds tittered and guffawed at him. He let out a groan and a sharp snapping sound could be heard. Brittany took a long draft from the skin.

Kurt let out a giggle before turning. A wide chunk of tree branch protruded from his shoulder. Blood seeped from the wound.

"Guys!"

Holly attempted to stop her convulsions but lost the battle,

"Ohhhhh Shit!"

Brittany replaced the stopper, dropped the skin and dashed over to her friend,

"It's not funny. Are you ok?"

He waved her off,

"I'm fine."

He gripped the wood and gave it a tug, hissing. He made another attempt. Flopping into the snow, he whined like a toddler, drawing out the words,

"Holly, its stuck!"

Wrapping herself in the Kurt's cloak, Brittany sat down on the fallen log and watched as the flaxen vampire tried to remove the offending wooden object. She stifled her chuckles as the two vampires bickered between themselves. Holly went to put her foot on his shoulder as leverage. Kurt pushed her leg away causing her to fall over.

Suddenly the forest floor began to bend and swell.

She was in a hall of sorts. With the shields and swords that adorned the walls, a battle hall is all she could assume.

She could feel the flames of a fire behind her. To her left on a raised platform, sat an older bald headed man, wearing a crown and a surly expression.

Heavy set, burly men wrapped in bear furs with sword hilts glinting at their hips or axes on their backs were seated at long tables that ran the length of the hall. Some had scars of battle. A gravely, growl of a voice rang out,

"Bertrand only you can overrule the line of succession. The village warriors will not follow the woman!"

The men at the tables bellowed with mirth.

"Don't call him that, It's offensive to the shield maidens." Followed by another set of guffaws.

The man on the platform stood up,

"Enough! He is still your Prince and I shall not deny him his birth right."

A swarthy man with a flattened, bent nose and a broad purple scar down his bicep stepped forward.

"A Prince that is yet to prove himself in battle."

"Otto, Kurt is still your older brother; do not disrespect him in this house!"

Brittany felt someone, harshly shaking her shoulders,

"Honeybee! Brittany are you ok?"

She refocused her eyes and found her two companions crouched down in front of her, faces full of worry. She blinked and licked her lips.

"Phew, no more drink for you!" Kurt chided.

"What happened?" Holly asked full of concern.

Brittany took the water skin and took a small sip. Standing up and drawing the cloak further around her, she inquired, curiously.

"Kurt, who are Otto and Bertrand?"

"My brother and faathhh" His brow crinkled in confusion. "What a minute how do you know?"

Brittany grinned at him.

"I saw!"

Holly squealed, embracing her in a bone-crushing hug, swinging her round and round.

"Oh my god! This is excellent! When we get back home, you are going to tell us all about it and we are going to celebrate properly."

Kurt began to trunch off into the dense vegetation.

"Where are you going?" Brittany asked,

He replied, over his shoulder,

"To get your clothes you silly mare."

X

**Ps, guys you should really check out the images for Krampus.. he is absolutely terrifying.. **

**To the Guest who reviewed. Britt cannot go up against Sebastian just yet. Holly and Charlotte are trying to figure out if she can use it on vamps.. **

**I want Britt to have at least a little more of an understanding of her abilities first.**

**In this universe, Vamps get stronger as they get older, if they feed regularly. So britts abilities are only just coming to fruit. She will go off on a rampant mission at some point. **

**Seb is going to do something stupid n Britt is gonna see red. **


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Italy. 1690. House of Bastian._

X

The courtyard teemed with activity in the cool evening as they lounged in their seats in the centre of it all. Greenhorns to the city had arrived wishing to experience the unique brand of entertainment only her Master could provide, in particular a wealthy merchant who Sebastian wished to secure as a type of business associate. He demanded that Santana be there as some form of a distraction.

She sat back, languishing into the plush cushions of her chair surveying all round her, half-listening to his conversation as he weaselled and snivelled, making himself out to be a sort of esteemed trader rather than the fiend he truly was.

The newborn rolled her eyes, as the neophyte hung off her maker's every word.

Sometimes humans could be so stupid!

Including her former self in that category, she wondered how it was that they could not see what was in front of their very eyes.

She returned to disinterestedly watching the whores and the carousers, shaking their naked, god given wares, licking and fucking each other into oblivion. She doubted anything could scandalize her anymore. She was sure that if somebody suddenly decided to take one of the girl's, rutting like a wild animal, at her feet, she would not even blink, in fact, she would probably yawn out of sheer boredom.

In the midst of the bustle, something in particular caught her eye.

Every time the juggler in front of them tossed his brightly coloured clubs into the air, the two Versipellis that stood guard, twitched.

She took a long draft from her goblet, savouring how the sanguine fluid slowly trickled down her throat, coating it with sweetness. Sebastian, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that she deserved a treat for her behaviour and had allowed her a glass from a fresh kill.

The difference between thralls and a fresh kill was akin to corked wine and the finest Bordeaux.

There it was again, the ever so slight but visible ripple of the haunches and twitch of the head, one went so far as to disguise it with a roll of his shoulders and snap of his neck from side to side.

"Juggler!" She called.

The black and white, diamond shaped clad jester turned, stunned at being addressed. He looked around before pointing to himself.

"Yes, you!" She sank back into her seat, crossing one leg over the other at the knee. Narrowing her eyes, she rested her elbow on the arm of her chair, cupping her own chin, stroking her bottom lip with her middle finger as if deep in contemplation, "How high can you throw and still keep juggling?"

Sebastian's head snapped round giving her a questioning look.

"What?" She shrugged, nonchalantly, "I wish to see how good he really is."

Her Master waved, indicating for the jester to carry on before returning to his conversation.

Taking it as a challenge, the juggler bowed low, pointing one foot before him and extending his arm back. He gave a shake of his head, causing the bells of his hat to jingle. Santana caught the small smirk from beneath the shadow of the nose of his mask. She smiled back in encouragement.

He began, slowly, tossing the clubs in a simple circle. Keeping an eye on Santana, he began throwing them higher and higher on each pass.

The youngling watched the Versipellis. The higher the clubs went, the wolves eyes followed.

Changing his beat, the Juggler fired two clubs into the air, spinning slowly, on the down stroke he launched the middle club, adding flare to show off his skills, doubling the height of the other two, spinning at a much faster rate. He continued the trick repeatedly.

On a particular high throw, the two men in front of her actually craned their heads a little.

The jester cavorted, catching the clubs behind his back, sometimes crossing the clubs in mid air.

Santana continued to observe.

What was a wolf?

If you thought about it, they were nothing more than wild dogs really and, every body and their uncle knew, deep down every dog secretly loved a good game of fetch.

Standing up, she approached the Juggler,

"Please would you teach me?"

She could feel Sebastian eyeing her curiously.

The Juggler showed her how to position herself, count out the beat and explained to watch the clubs not her hands and allow it to come naturally. After a few attempts, she had the hang of it, sending the colourful clubs swirling into the sky. She kept the wolves in the corner of her vision as she tossed them.

Both the guard dogs watched her intently.

It was quite pathetic really.

They were one-step away from wagging their tails. She wondered if she scratched them behind the ears, would they roll over and kick their legs.

Satisfied, she handed back the clubs to the jester thanking him. He accepted them graciously, giving her another polite, low bow before resuming his skills and wandering off into the courtyard.

She returned to her seat, taking a sip from her goblet. Sebastian leaned towards her,

"That was quite the display."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, replying flippantly,

"It is quite easy once you get the hang of it."

Her maker waved his glass in the air, catching the attention of a serving boy. The lion cloth clad youth stepped forward. Santana reached out, taking the decanter from his unresisting hands,

"No. Let me."

Sebastian shot her a quizzical look as she carefully poured the viscous liquid into his ornate goblet.

"What has brought this about? You wouldn't be foolishly considering trying something?"

Refilling her own goblet, she seated herself, fixing her skirts,

"You have warned me what shall happen if I misbehave," Both their eyes flickered to Medici who was lounging on a sofa, enjoying the view of three nubile women pleasuring each other for all to see, "And quite frankly I am sick and tired of feeding from second and third hand thralls."

Sebastian sat quiet for a moment as Santana caught a number of expressions flitter across his features. He took her chin lightly between his thumb and index finger, staring into her eyes, his thoughts obnoxiously intruding her mind, seeking out any semblance of deception. She kept her expression and mind blank,

"I miss killing." She breathed, biting her bottom lip, suggestively and looking at him through her long, sweeping lashes.

He grinned at her,

"I knew you would come round to our way of thinking soon enough."

He waved over Lylah, who snaked her way through the spectators of the 'three way floor show'. The russet haired girl bent down to eagerly take instruction from her Master. Santana heard him whisper in her ear,

"Be a good girl and go down into the Pits. I want you to fill up the jug fresh and the rest is yours." He reached out to pat the brunette's knee, "Make sure you pick the best for our Santana here. It would seem she has seen the light."

Lylah trailed her fingers lightly along Santana's bare shoulder, throwing her a wink. The smaller girl blew the red head a kiss and gave her a seductive wave with her fingers.

Yes, Santana knew that if she were going to have any chance of escape at all in the future, she would have to play ball.

So to speak.

X

**ps A few people were asking about Charlotte, what she looked like n if she was based off the fandom's twin sister. She's not based off the fandom's creation. **

**Vamp Verse's Charlotte is older. **

**If you're interested, I always imagined her looking like Kadee Strickland in the early seasons of Private Practise, ironically her character in the show is also called Charlotte. **

**I could see herself and Dianna Agron passing off for family, looks wise. Tell me what you think. **

**Also next chapter is some fluffy Brittana dreamscape. X **


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

I am not a review whore, but I am wondering if I am doing something wrong or if people are losing interest. I know how much you folks like the Brittana action and ur mad to see them together, but I cant have our lovely ladies, face to face just yet as I am attempting to set down a little ground work for them.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16 is well under way.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

VAMP VERSE

X

_1690. Somewhere, where only they can roam._

X

After an evening of entertainment and inane chatter, Santana was exhausted and was more than glad to return to her humble cell.

Lying back in her funerary box, she rubbed at the manacles with the edges of her skirt. The burning sensation dulled down to something akin to an annoying itch, after a feed on fresh blood. She could not imagine what it must be like for Lucinda, wearing them all the time and with such little food. At least when Sebastian commanded her to sleep, the brunette was afforded some respite.

Soft tendrils reached out, stroking her mind. Warmth travelled up her spine and along her shoulders, relaxing her. She grinned into the darkness as she felt that instantly recognisable and eagerly anticipated pull.

Closing her eyes, she allowed it to take her.

X

Exhaling, she fluttered her long lashes, opening her eyes a fraction. Her skin tingled all over as she felt tender but firm, slender fingers gripping her left hip from behind and the light press of satiny, cool lips to the nape of her neck. She relaxed back into the pliant body behind her and let out a small gasp as sharp teeth lightly nipped at her flesh. A velvet tongue grazing along the shell of her ear caused her to shiver as a honey coated voice, whispered,

"Songbird. I missed you."

Enjoying every minute sensation, she rasped,

"Fancy meeting you here?"

The fingers let go. Jarred from the loss of her comfort, she spun round.

Brittany stood not a few feet away, her eyes shining the brightest blue that Santana had ever seen and her cheeks pulled up into the broadest grin. The blond twirled herself around,

"Don't you just love this place?"

Santana tore her eyes away from the gorgeous vision in front of her to take in her surroundings. They idled in a glade bathed in moonlight surrounded by the silhouettes of trees that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. Underfoot, a crisp blanket of virginal snow covered the forest floor contrasting with the deep, midnight blue sky, overhead, littered with twinkling stars. Somewhere an owl hooted lending a mystical quality to it all. She took a tiny step towards the girl she suspected was beginning to own her heart,

"You pick the most beautiful places."

Brittany sing songed, nearly tripping over a stone,

"Not as beautiful as you, Santana banana bana boo!"

The younger vampire watched as the alpine girl tottered about in the under growth, chuckling, she asked,

"Are you drunk?"

Tapping her heels together, the blond spun round. Saluting, she replied, cheerfully,

"I most certainly am!"

Santana took another tentative step forward as Brittany hopped up onto a fallen log. She balanced precariously, holding her arms straight and out to the sides to steady herself. The brunette followed her along the ground weaving amongst the fallen branches and sweet smelling pine cones,

"Be careful sweetheart."

Brittany faltered, crinkling her nose in delight,

"Aww, you called me sweetheart."

Santana grinned up at her sheepishly. Loving the way her lover's face lit up, she admitted,

"I did."

The older vampire went to bounce on the balls on her feet. Losing her footing, she slipped, pin wheeling her arms in an attempt to regain her balance. She tipped forward. Santana jumped, clearing the distance between them, catching the taller girl at her waist, breaking her fall.

Brittany smirked, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl's neck. Dipping down she breathed against her saviour's lips,

"My hero."

Snaking her arms tighter around the blond's waist she pulled her closer, murmuring affectionately,

"Always."

Santana reached up on her tiptoes, taking Brittany's bottom lip in her own and sucked on it gently. She loved the way she tasted, reminding her of lazy summer evenings.

Brittany slipped her tongue out to meet the brunette's, kissing her deeply until they both broke away, gasping for air. Resting their foreheads together, Santana gazed into her eyes, picking out the flecks of gold that stood out like beacons in the dark. She let out a contented sigh as Brittany began to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Songbird," Brittany began, softly, "Have you ever let yourself go?"

The smaller girl placed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth,

"Hmm?"

"Ran as fast as you can until it all falls away? It's my favourite thing to do." She added, winking devilishly, "Apart from you, of course."

The younger vampire giggled at her words. The blond gave her a quick peck before spinning out of her grasp. Santana whimpered at the sudden loss of her in her arms,

"Britt."

"If you want sweeter lady kisses, you will have to catch me!" The blond teased before darting off at break neck speed, becoming a blur and whipping a mist of fine powder in her wake.

Santana shouted into the forest,

"Oh it's on!"

She rolled up the waistband of her skirt and set off in hot pursuit.

X

Santana stopped to scan the woodland for any clue as to the whereabouts of her playmate. She had no idea as to how many leagues they had covered or even if Brittany was concealing herself within these neck of the woods.

The timber had swallowed her, as if she was a beloved nymph and they wished to protect her.

If Brittany could bend the rules, so could she.

Taking a moment, she silenced herself. Closing her eyes, she cocked her head, listening, opening herself up to the sounds of the forest. She could hear the small, relaxed heart beats of the creatures, slumbering in their burrows. The ruffle of feathers as birds of prey roosted. Overhead in the slight breeze the leaves of the trees shivered and somewhere deeper still a brook babbled.

This was the symphony of the wildwood.

Off to her left came the distinct sound of rustling, from somewhere else, the screeches of birds and the flutter of their wings as they alighted, startled from their nesting place.

The brittle rustling became louder.

The younger vampire crept through the weald, taking care where she stepped, avoiding the pitfalls of the fauna that would alert anyone to her presence.

The tall bush in front of her shook and swayed,

Santana reached out a slender, tanned hand, grasping a clump of branches. She tore it back at speed, yelling,

"Gotcha!"

An alarmed dog fox shot from the undergrowth into the safety of the night. She took a step back in disappointment.

"Boo!"

Santana let out a shriek, whipping round she used the bush to steady her.

"My heart!" She straightened herself, "Where the hell did you come out of?"

Brittany laughed at her mischievously,

"I was hiding."

Santana took a tiny step towards, attempting to calculate if she could close the distance before the other vampire could move. She knew she was fast, faster than most, but Britt evidently had agility on her side. She attempted to distract her companion,

"I can see that!"

She caught the twinkle in the blond's eyes as they flickered between the distance on the ground and back to Santana's face. Willing the other to move, the air crackled with anticipation.

Eyeballing each other, Brittany cutely drew her tongue across her teeth and scrunched her nose, Santana arched an eyebrow and smirked in reply.

Both girls tensed, sensing the slight tremor of muscles beginning to ripple. A clump of snow fell from the sky with a thud, breaking the moment. Santana lunged forward just as Brittany launched herself into the canopy.

Finding she held nothing but air, the shorter girl spun round in surprise, peering into the foliage. Her line of sight following the source of the snickers, she could pick out Brittany at least 15ft from the ground, hanging on a branch with one arm, the tips of her feet against the trunk, resting in a crouch, her other arm swinging loose.

"You're going to have to move much quicker than that!" The blond teased.

Santana pouted,

"It's not fair you're wearing breeches and boots."

"So are you!" Brittany quipped.

Santana looked down to find her clothes had been replaced with soft, dark woollen breeches, a loose shirt and deer skin boots lined with fur. She looked up at the tree dweller in surprise,

"You can do that?"

Brittany shifted along the bark, adjusting her grip,

"I can do anything here!"

Taking advantage of the blond's obscured vision the latin girl inched closer,

"Could you make me naked?"

"I could if I wanted to," The blond peeked from behind the trunk, "Hey! Naaa haaa , I see what your doing!"

"What?" Santana replied, innocently.

"You're trying to trick me so you can catch me!"

Santana threw her a look of dramatic, mock hurt, a hand at her chest,

"Ohh, I would never. My lady, you wound me!"

Brittany giggled.

Like lightening, Santana bunched her muscles and leapt up, scrabbling through the branches. Her fingernails scrapped across the toe of the blonde's deer skin leather boots as she launched herself out of her would be captors clutches and into a tree far across the clearing.

The tree buckled beneath the sudden excess weight, depositing the day's collection of snow onto the ground far below alerting Santana as to her quarry's whereabouts. Brittany's taunt rang out clear,

"Ha ha, you missed me!"

Santana stealthily slid from the tree and began to skulk along the forest floor, keeping to the shadows. Satisfied she was far enough ahead, she slinked up a pine, making sure to move as smoothly as possible so as not to upset the snow and give away her position.

She packed a tight snowball and fired it across the clearing, aiming at a tree just behind the one she assumed Brittany was still hiding in. It had the desired affect as the blond burst out of the thick branches, across the sky, Santana leapt out over her line of flight, missing her by a hairs breath.

Brittany landed in the far tree using its momentum, as it bent under the sheer force and snapped back into shape, to power her over to the other side.

Santana saw her, for a brief moment, silhouetted in the moonlight as she neatly flipped a somersault in mid air.

"Show off!" Santana yelled.

Gales of cheeky, playful laughter echoed round the weald. Owls hooted angrily at being disturbed as the two girls continued to chase each other through the topiary, bouncing from tree to tree.

Up ahead, Santana could make out the shadow of Brittany leaping from tree to tree, their paths sometimes crossing as they jeered at each other. As the blond passed in front of her, the younger vampire heard a distinctive sharp crack as her own toes barely grazed the solid bark beneath. As if in slow motion, she whipped round to see the adjacent tree falling to the ground and the shadow of Brittany flailing her arms and legs in mid air.

She spring boarded herself with her thighs across the gap, catching Brittany in her arms. They both tumbled to the floor, followed by a heavy thud and a resounding,

"Uuf!"

Brittany let out a wheeze beneath the other girl. Collecting her bearings and realising the cushion beneath her was human shaped, she scrambled back, her hands flying all over the blonds body, searching for damage,

"OhmyGod! Are you ok?"

White powder littered the air and the brunette realised they where nestled in a small crater. They must have impacted the ground one hell of a speed to cause that. She asked again, her voice full of worry,

"Britt, are you ok?" How many fingers am I holding up?"

Brittany gasped, blinking her mischievous eyes and broke into fits of giggles, reassuring her,

"I'm fine. Santana."

"Oh thankgod!"

The blond pulled the smaller girl on top of her,

"Come claim your prize."

Santana crawled up her lover, straddling her thighs and peppering her face with butterfly kisses. Holding herself up by her elbows, she stroked the hair out of Brittany's eyes and plucked a twig from her hair.

The older vampire caressed her cheek and wrapped a strong arm around her tiny waist. They grinned at each other impishly. Brittany brushed her cool nose against her cheek, planting light kisses along her jawbone. She brushed her thumb just beneath Santana's ear, causing her to quiver.

Brittany took her plump bottom lip between her own, massaging it with the tip of her silken tongue. Santana let out an inaudible whimper. She felt Brittany smirk against her lips. She heard the blond, husk,

"I would prefer to do this for real."

Santana hummed in agreement, sinking further into the girl beneath her and the fire that ran through her body at her touch. Brittany trailed feather light kisses up her jaw and gently sucked on her ear lobe, breathing against Santana's ear,

"If you tell me where you are I'll come and get you."

Santana sat up, resting on her lover's hips,

"No! I will come to you."

"Im in Swsshh"

The smaller girl cut her off, with a finger to her lips,

"Shhh! Don't tell me not just yet."

"Why not?" She could feel Brittany looking at her quizzically as she inspecting her fingernails, splayed out on her lover's stomach, "San are you in trouble?"

Santana sniffed, hoping she came off as nonchalant,

"I'm fine. It is nothing I can't handle."

The blond propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out for the brunette,

"If you need help, I have lots of vampire friends."

"No!" Santana called out desperately, her hands flying to cup Brittany's cheek. Gazing at her intently, she demanded, "Promise that, whatever happens you will not come looking for me! Do you understand?"

She felt Brittany nod in her grasp. She leant forward and pressed her lips to soft shell pink ones, before sinking against the blond's body.

They lay in silence, holding each other close neither really listening to the woodland or noticing the stars but rather sinking into their own thoughts.

Brittany drew her fingers through her dark, luscious locks whilst Santana traced patterns along Brittany's pale collarbone as they nestled into each other.

Santana could not risk Sebastian getting hold of Brittany. She could only imagine the things he would demand that she do. The torture he would inflict upon them both, whether for gain or sheer sport. She would not be responsible for exposing such a sweet girl to such a brutal monster. Plating a chaste kiss to the hollow of Brittany's neck, she whispered,

"There are just a few things I need to take care of and then I will come and find you" She entwined their fingers on the taller girl's stomach, " Can you do that? Can you be patient for me?"

Brittany kissed the top of her head, snuggling her closer,

"How ever long it takes Songbird."

X

**ps, I hope u enjoyed our little bit of Brittana action and a few other thingy bobs.. **

**please feel free to review **


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Im glad u liked the fluffy Brittana

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16. Half of the chap is written up on the comp.. The other half needs doing on paper. Need to make sure my dialogue is correct and up to standard.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Bohmerwald/Sumava. 1690. Somewhere in the depths of Pack territory. _

X

By the second evening, Charlotte and Vargo found themselves surrounded by the remoteness of the Sumava. It was no place for mere mortals. The fierce and primitive landscape belonged only to beast and bloom. In some places, the canopy was so opaque it blotted out the night sky completely and the substantial vegetation forced the Versipelli to pick their way a round.

She was slightly surprised at the swiftness with which the small pack moved. Puck and his second in command, the hulking girl she had come to know as Loren, stuck close by whilst the rest slunk in the shadows, alternating between Wolf and Human form. Their gleaming eyes and steam rising pants made it known to the vampires that they were being fenced in.

They were not being treated like prisoners as such but Charlotte got the feeling that they would not exactly be allowed to wander off either.

She noticed that as they travelled some members of the pack would break away only to be replaced by others. Puck had assured her it was a precaution needed in these dark times.

Who knew who was behind the attack and how far they could reach?

X

They had travelled many hours into the night and had covered a great distance. Puck ran ahead, his nose to the ground. Sometimes his shaggy black fur made it difficult for Charlotte to pick him out even with her vampire eyes. Where as Puck was broad chested, had lithe, muscular, hindquarter's and his head came up to Charlotte's shoulders, Loren's coarse, light brown coat and sheer bulk made her easily identifiable.

The dark wolf continued to sniff around the base of a dense thicket from which sprang a clump of trees, the middle one being at least 20 metres in circumference. To the blond vampire it looked the same as any of the other clump of trees in the forest

Satisfied, Puck transformed back into his human form. Charlotte noticed him give a shake of his head and a slight stumble, as if off balance. Leaning over to Vargo, she whispered,

"What was that?"

The bald vampire lowered his voice,

"It takes few minutes for their brains to catch up with their bodies. The longer they stay in wolf form the longer it takes to make the change back. Swapping from wolf senses back to human senses can leave them disorientated for a few moments."

Whipping round her wide head, Loren curled up her top lip and bared her canines at them both.

"Right." Puck addressed the rest of the pack, "We stop here for the night."

"Why? We still have a few hours left till daybreak!" The voice belonged to a rangy man, his red hair was close cropped at the sides and fell thick down his back.

Puck replied, matter a fact,

"Not enough to make the Den."

Another female voice spoke up,

"I agree with Rikk. If we pushed it, we could make it."

The tanned man held up a hand, taking a step back towards the vampires,

"Look, I know you're eager to get back but it would be cutting it too close." He gestured to the red head and a few others, "Rikk, you and you, set up a perimeter and you fetch some water."

Rikk took a step towards him, snarling,

"Why should we pander to these _blood suckers_?"

Puck turned, growling menacingly,

"Are you defying me?"

A number of Wolves pulled themselves back from Rikk's vicinity, sitting on their hunches, inclining their heads and avoiding the dark haired man's fiery, yellow stare, others lay down, dropping their tails and resting their heads on their paws. The human Versipelli watched on in silence.

Rikk began to pace back and forth, barking in challenge,

"Yeah, maybe I am. We are not bound to them anymore." He turned to the rest of the pack, sneering, "Or maybe you like being their lapdog."

A deep, rumble escaped Puck's throat as he leapt, changing forms in mid air. Rikk managed to transform, kicking up leaves and dirt as he skittered out of the way. The dark wolf's jaws snapped millimetres from his tail. Puck landed, turning on a six pence to face the smaller wolf, his hackles raised, making him look larger still. His growl echoed off the trees, drowning out the smaller wolf's.

They circled each other, slowly.

The other Versipellis let out yips and shifted through the wildwood.

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity as the two wolves, snarling, flew for each other. Puck dodged Rikk's jaws, sinking his own teeth into red haunches and flinging him across the clearing. Puck stalked over to his prone form, pinning him to the dirt with one huge paw. Leaning down centimetres from Rikk's face, he let out a guttural growl. Thick drops of drool fell into red fur as the smaller wolf let out a high-pitched whine, raising his leg and showing his belly in submission.

The dark wolf stepped off him.

The red wolf scrabbled to his paws, taking off at high speed into the dense undergrowth. Puck turned his eyes to the rest of the pack who twitched their ears back or remained with their tails on the ground.

He transformed back, bone and sinew popping back into place, muttering to himself,

"That's what I thought." He whipped round in all his naked glory, his muscles glistening, "Any one else got a problem?"

The three wolves he had chosen for the task took off at a lazy pace in the direction of Rikk.

Loren stepped forward in her human form and stroked a hand through his thick hair and down his spine,

"I love it when you throw down and get all Alpha but the snivelling little shit has a point."

Puck shot the vampires a glance,

"Come on Loren, we have our orders, "Staring off in the direction of the wolves, he added, "I sometimes wonder what fucking idiot bit him."

Stepping round the large girl, he approached Charlotte and Vargo,

"I am sorry you had to witness that. Some of the lads remember the days of old and are finding it hard to forgive your kind."

Vargo inclined his head, adding politely,

"We apologise if our appearance has caused any disruption or discord."

Charlotte watched on, from what she had been taught she knew that the Packs had a strict hierarchy to which they adhered to, similar in a way to the rules of the Houses but she had never seen it in action.

Loren and another Versipellis reached their strong, beefy arms into the close thicket at the base of the coppice. Grunting with the effort, they struggled to lift up a cumbersome hatch, cleverly concealed in the forest floor; even a small bush had begun to grow on top of it. The hefty girl eyed the two vampires suspiciously, as they followed Puck down into the dark.

He led them down a long incline until Charlotte could feel the ground underfoot even out. She waited a few moments giving her eyes time to adjust to the pitch dark. She could hear a rustling to her left, somewhere a hinge squeaked and a match struck, lighting a tapered candle in a lantern. Puck offered,

"Not that anyone needs it but its makes it a bit more homely."

He moved further into the earthen hollow, lighting all the other lanterns he could find. Charlotte glanced around the make shift den.

The roots of the trees poked through the roof, at least 20 feet over head. Egg shaped holes, big enough to fit a person or two adult wolves curled up, had been dug into the walls. Leaves and reeds littered the tightly packed earth floor acting as make shift bedding. Furs and blankets lay in a pile in the far corner. It was not as well built as the bolt holes the vampires had frequented on the way to the House of Methuselah but it was solid, cosy and dry.

Loren took to sweeping the excess leaves over into random piles. A dirty yellow wolf, delicate in stature, brushed past Charlotte, flopping herself down on top of a pile of reeds in one of the hovels and curled up into a ball. Her brown eyebrows quirked up and her ears twitched as she observed the two vampires before giving a huge yawn, showing off her lagging pink tongue and black gums. Settling herself, she flicked her dirty yellow tail over her nose and closed her eyes.

Spraying a bunch of leaves in the small wolf's direction, Loren cursed,

"Charn, you're such a lazy bitch!"

The little wolf snuffled further into her tail in reply. Puck chuckled,

"Welcome to the Burrows."

Charlotte sensed the hulk of bodies as Versipellis in either form began to filter in and make themselves comfortable. They lounged around talking quietly or took to grooming themselves, other, like the dirty blond, cuddled up to sleep. Puck continued further back, beckoning the two vampires to follow. He placed the lantern into a small recess. The blond woman could make out four coffins set on the ground, one was a little fancier than the other.

The young man smiled at her genially, removing the heavy lid. He attempted to wipe away the stay cobwebs and shoo out a few spiders as he began to explain,

"You can take this one. It was Sophia's. It has been a while since she came this way but our leader demanded that we keep the burrows in good nick. Just in case."

Charlotte found she could not help but like the young man. He had been nothing short of cordial, attending to their every need, going so far as to make sure they were fed, even though some of his pack mates had regarded Vargo and herself with nothing but disdain.

She watched him as he fluffed up her pillow and shook out the blanket.

"Noah, "I would like to thank you for your hospitality. We both would."

She began.

He looked up from what he was doing.

Vargo nodded and began removing furs from one of the other caskets. She continued,

"I cant help but notice that unlike some of your Pack you are more than comfortable in our company."

Puck paused, as he folded up the blanket,

"I had to learn the histories being a true born and being groomed to maybe one day take over the Pack." He continued to place the blanket in the casket, "We aren't too big on books and human learning as you can imagine, so they me sent to Sophie's."

He reached for one of the discarded furs, wrapping it round his middle,

"She was a friend to our kind. She even raised some of us through our whelping years, myself included."

"She will be sorely missed." Vargo admitted, climbing into his coffin.

"Sometimes the old ways are the only way." Puck went to leave, throwing over his shoulder, "Get some rest Charlotte, I'll make sure you're not disturbed. We have quite the evening ahead of us tomorrow."

X

**Ps this chap is kinda split in two.. so.. feel free to tell me what u think now we've seen a bit more of the wolves. **


	18. Chapter 18

Sorry it took a few days to upload this but friends visited from L.A so as u can imagine that party got a litte started and what not.

Over 200 reviews., Wow, Guys and Dolls. Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16. Half of the chap is written up on the comp.. The other half needs doing on paper. Need to make sure my dialogue is correct and up to standard.

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**X**

VAMP VERSE

X

_Bohmerwald/Sumava. 1690. Pack territory. _

X

They rose at last light, making haste, as the Wolves were eager to return to their home. The deeper they went into the Sumava the more relaxed the Pack became. They took to chasing their companions, playfully nipping at each other's noses and tugging on their ears. Even Rikk who had been avoiding Puck and the vampires, sulking at the tail end of the Pack in disgrace, became more carefree.

In a sudden outburst, many of the Versipellis' took off, bounding ahead and a chorus of musical howls could be heard calling back and forth. Charlotte had heard rumour of the Wolf Song but she had never had the pleasure of hearing it first hand. It floated into the night, filling the wildwood with its melody.

It was how the Wolves communicated, negotiating boundaries and passage into other packs territories, announcing new pack leaders and grieving those who had passed on, to return to Mother Moon. Their lesser brethren, the Timber Wolf would also raise their voices, helping the flow of information to cover the vast distances.

She knew how privileged she was to witness such music.

With an ear-to-ear grin, Puck informed the two vampires that they were approaching the Den.

They came over a small rise and paused on a ridge. Before them lay an ominous, solid grove that stretched as far as the eye could see and reached into the sky. No tree within 20 metres could rival its height. To the untrained eye, it looked natural but the astute blond could tell that any tree that may be used as a threat had been uprooted or damaged.

Loren whimpered, her face one of childlike happiness,

"We're finally home."

The hulking girl blushed when she realised the blond vampire had caught a glimpse past her tough exterior. In embarrassment, she gave a cough and strode down the embankment, indicating for them to follow.

At the base of the thicket, the gnarled, brown and moss covered branches were at least four times as wide as Charlotte's thigh and the thorns were easily the length and girth of a large man's hands, ending in deadly points.

Being this close to so many potential stakes made her skin itch. She peered into the dense underbrush, even with her acute vision; she could not pierce the tangled murk. The whole mass seemed to ebb and flex, emitting creaks, almost as if it breathed.

If human or beast were to run foul of this place, it would surely mean death.

Vargo marvelled at the structure,

"Wow!" He breathed, "It's impressive."

Loren leant forward, chuckling darkly in his ear,

"It's to keep out intruders. If you tried to leap from the trees, you'd get caught in the middle!"

She drew the thumb across her throat in a slitting motion. The bald vampire visibly flinched.

A swarthy man with a stature that reminded Charlotte of a blacksmith and a wide chest covered in thick, black hair akin to a rug, handed Puck two, three-inch strips of black bear fur.

Puck approached the two vampires stroking the strips through his hands. He looked apologetic as he said,

"Sorry I have to do this, but you understand?" He handed one to Loren. Stepping behind the blond, he explained, "The only person to come through here without one was Sophia."

He gently placed the blindfold over Charlotte's eyes, tying it securely. She could hear Vargo grumble,

"Not so rough!"

She could smell and feel the stiffness of leather layered within the fur, helping to completely obscure their vision. Puck laced his voice with mischief,

"Oh there's something else I need to apologise for."

Suddenly, she found herself hoisted like a sack over broad, strong shoulders. She let out a squeak at the unexpected action. The shoulders beneath her shook with laughter. Digging him playfully in the back, she chastised,

"It's not funny!"

"Lads, are we ready to go home?"

There came a chorus of excited yips and little barks. She heard the creak of a door opening and felt them making a sloping descent. She picked out soft footfalls in the dirt. The air smelt damp, earthy and close.

The young man shifted his shoulders and joked,

"Right Miss Charlotte, it's about to get bumpy. I'll try my best not to drop you."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't!"

She felt Puck break into a loping run and she tried to ignore the discomfort as her midsection banged mercilessly against sheer bone. The sound of many paws and heavy strides followed close behind. They ran, twisting this way and that for what seemed like eons to the vampire before climbing up an incline and out into the open. The shifting breeze felt warm and smelt of Wolves and human skin. Children laughed and yelled,

"Puck's home!"

The patter of little feet and the flutter of tiny heartbeats surrounded her and she felt the beast stir within, the smell of sweet, untainted blood pricking at her senses. Behind her, she heard Vargo let out a groan.

"Who's that?" An inquisitive girl's voice piped up.

"Its one of Sophie's friends."

There came a myriad of little voices in reply,

"Sophie! Sophie!"

"When can we visit her?"

"You promised!"

Charlotte felt as if she had glass beneath her skin. Their pumping hearts pushing the life force through their veins rang loud in her ears. She began to chant her mantra in her head,

'Control. Restraint. Control. Restraint!'

The children pressed closer as Puck seemed to be affectionately pushing them out of the way,

"Out of the way or I'll let her go and she'll tear out your throats!"

If only he knew how true, it was. The children let out fake screams and scrabbled away to safety.

She heard a commotion erupting behind her. Wolves snarled and Vargo hissed. She tensed at the slight hint of fear that tinged the air. She could barely hear herself think, as the steady swish grew. Digging Puck in the back, she growled,

"Puck, get us out of here!"

Sensing her urgency, the young man took off, before throwing her down on a soft surface. She tore off the blindfold swallowing huge gulps of air and gripping her thighs, clinging desperately to the last few shreds of her resolve.

"We… Blood!" She choked.

Vargo struggled against Loren and two other Versipellis, hissing, baring his fangs and swiping at them with his nails, his eyes blown jet black. The hefty girl leant on his chest with her knee and grasped him by the throat, attempting to pin him whilst the others held on to his legs and arms as he thrashed.

"Noah! Now!" Charlotte screamed.

A skinhead youth ran in with a steaming jug. Loren ripped it from him. Gripping the lower half of Vargo's face in one meaty hand, she forced open the bald vampire's mouth and poured the contents down his throat. Another jug appeared in front of Charlotte, she snatched it up, drinking greedily. Draining it, she let it fall, where it rolled across the floor as she flopped backwards into the softness of the bed, one arm over her eyes and her chest heaving as if gasping for air. The itch in her skin began to whittle away and the yearning slowly subsided. Charlotte winced as a loud voice boomed,

"Who is responsible for bringing them round the changelings, unfed?"

"Me." She heard Puck reply, guiltily, "Nothing like this ever happened with Sophie!"

The same female voice, gruffed.

"That's coz she travelled with thralls, you god darn idiot!"

Charlotte was still over come. She had come so close to losing it and slipping into a blood frenzy, she could not even remember the last time she had been caught in one. It must have been decades, she would go so far as to say centuries and with the wild, desperate pleas for acceptance of his apologies, it seemed Vargo had never experienced one in the whole of his undead life.

Gingerly, she sat up, rubbing a hand over her eyes. Through her splayed fingers, she could make out a women with a tight mop of curls, whose sized almost dwarfed that of Loren. She was wearing skirt that came down to her knees, fashioned from strips of leather, much like a Roman soldier's, a brown fur vest and a deep red cloak. The towering woman gave the young wolf a motherly cuff round the ear that nearly sent him careening across the floor.

"Animal blood only staves the hunger. Its like us living on conies for weeks and suddenly being surrounded by buck!"

"I didn't realise!" Puck whined, rubbing the back of his head, "The Pack was in such a rush to get home, I thought it best we hunt when we got back."

The woman chided, with motherly affection,

"Tis an easy mistake, now go wan with ya, you wet behind the ears whelp."

Puck wore a hangdog expression as he exited the hovel. The woman continued,

"You can be letting go of that one an all. He'll be no trouble."

Loren and the two Versipellis did as they were commanded, letting go of the bald vampire, cautiously. Loren threw the two visitors a look of disgust before disappearing in the same direction as Puck, the other two wolves, close at heel.

The massive woman stepped further into the burrow, taking a seat by Charlotte. The whole bed dipped under her sheer weight.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. "Vargo choked, on the verge of tears, "I don't know what came over me. I swear to you, innocents are not my preference."

"You experienced a blood frenzy." Charlotte began, weakly.

A heavy, comforting hand rubbed her back.

"Are you ok?" The large woman asked, softly.

The blond vampire let out a huff of air she had not realised she had been holding. She looked into piercing green, intelligent eyes,

"I think so."

"You've been feeding from the forest floor for the last week, I take it?"

Charlotte nodded,

"We did not expect to be away from our thralls for more than three evenings. We did not mean to frighten the changelings."

The large woman shifted, causing the bed to creak,

"Ey, no harm, no foul. They need to learn someday, I guess, an it's better they learn in here than out there with no protection." She offered a large hand, "I'm Bieste. Got the name from my Gran Papi on account of my size."

Charlotte took it in her own, looking infantile in comparison,

"Charlotte, House Dubois and my companion is Vargo. We were sent by Holly to ascertain the details of the attack on the House of Methuselah, and mostly our dear friend Sophia."

Bieste took a huge breath,

"It twas bad business that's to be sure. Near fear, it wasn't one of ours. The Pack was accounted for that evening. We can talk about it later with the Elders."

Vargo rocked on the end of his seat, on the verge of tears and mumbling mournfully,

"I don't understand. Why didn't I attack the Wolves?"

Charlotte could not help but feel sorry for the bald vampire. The whole incident had shaken him to his core. She offered, gently,

"Changeling's blood is pure until they go through their first transformation, then something in them changes, making their blood undesirable to us."

Bieste fixed him with her piercing eyes,

"It aint your fault so quit babbling about it." She stood up, " I am going to go do some damage control and I'd dare say you'd like to be getting changed out of those rags and cleaning yourself up afore meeting anyone. There are clothes over there and I'll have some water brought to ye."

Charlotte gave her a grateful look,

"Thank you."

The large woman went to leave,

"Don't mention it. I'll send one of the young ones for you when we're ready."

Without another word, she exited the foxhole leaving the two vampires to reflect on the last few days.

Charlotte knew they hadn't made a very good first impression and from now on they would be watched very carefully.

One wrong move and they would be torn to shreds.

X

**p.s theres a third part to this chapter. **


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry it took a few days to upload this but life and what not.

One or two Guests thought that Bieste would hate Charlotte on sight. Bieste has been dealing with Sophia and her kind and knows how the vamps work. She has a Pack to consider put also the fine detail of polotics. It does to keep a cool head in those situations.

Over 200 reviews., Wow, Guys and Dolls. Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far.

Ships of Time is still my main priority and Chap 16. Getting bogged down in a little research

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

VAMP VERSE

X

_Sumava. 1690. Pack Territory. The Den._

X

After the two vampires washed and changed out of their travel stained clothes into the crudely fashioned smocks and fur vests kindly provided, Charn, dressed similarly, came to collect them stating the Elders were ready. Vargo, shivering and twitching beneath a heavy blanket, refused to leave preferring to stay in the relative safety of the burrow.

As the two women exited the foxhole, they moved past a human Versipellis and two in wolf form standing guard at the entrance and Charlotte could not help but wonder who was protecting whom.

They stepped out into a broad clearing. The dense briar patch shielded it from the bitter winds and harsh weather legendary in the deep Sumava. It rose, dome like, completely thinning out at the apex creating a wide gap through which the moon could cast its glow and the stars could shine.

The feeling in the clearing was one of a relaxed village life

Minute, lazy wisps of blue smoke, unseeable to the naked human eye, leaked from the ground at intervals.. Three foot wide, propped open, hatches littered the floor, warm shafts of light and soft murmured conversation escaped. Animal hides and dark cloth hung from either side of the doors, stopping a breeze from blowing in and the light from seeping out.

Charlotte realised that, if by some stroke of luck a human managed to make it past the various defences and came across the clearing, due to the camouflage of their homesteads, the Versipellis could easily go to ground, hiding their young and it would look as if the unfortunate soul had come upon the den of some unusually large wolves.

It was sheer genius.

A few woman hauled buckets from a concealed well, washed smocks and other garments hung from string tied between the hatches, others carried firewood. A number of youngsters chased each other, dodging through adult wolves and the doors, laughing and playing. Upon spying, the blond vampire their eyes grew wide and they skittered behind hackle-raised adults, regarding her warily. A bold girl, no older than five, gave her a small wave only to be nudged by an older sibling. Charlotte returned the greeting with a weak, closed mouth smile.

The lithe, ash blond teen continued to lead her past the openings until they arrived at an entrance much broader than the rest. Outside, a grey and black mottled wolf sat to attention, curling his lip as they approached.

They descended a four-foot wide slope into a spacious cavern. Here Versipelli lounged in either form around a large fire. Some were stretched out, or grooming one another. Others sat in small groups talking, passing meat or water flasks. Somewhere, a gentle flute lulled.

They pressed further back into the cavern and there was a slight shift in tension as the occupants became aware of her presence.

The smell of damp fur, meat, smoke and body odour was over powering. Seeing the number of wolves present and feeling their eyes watching her, Charlotte steeled herself leaving her vampire pride behind as she began to pick her way through the mass of bodies as politely as she could. Low growls, snarls and mutters of disapproval followed her.

"Ah." Bieste boomed over the din, "Our esteemed guest has arrived!"

She was sat upon a small box, her legs crossed in front of her, flanked either side by a willowy blonde with striking features similar to Charn, a stern faced black man in his thirties and swarthy, older man, who was covered in so much hair he resembled a bear rather than a human being. She patted the space beside her, indicating for Charlotte to join her. Seeing the acceptance of the Alpha the rest of the pack returned to relaxing.

Charlotte gracefully navigated the sea of limbs and seated herself beside her host.

"Here!" came a growl from her left, "Just in case."

She caught the impish twinkle in the eyes of the bear man from beneath bushy eyebrows and a matted wild beard as he heal out a pot full of steaming blood. She could not quite tell if he was smiling or not until he winked. Taking it, she thanked him graciously.

"Where is the other?" The willowy blond asked, haughtily,

Taking a sip of the steaming blood and forcing herself not to cringe, Charlotte replied,

"He wishes to remain alone. The incident earlier deeply affected him."

"See," the black man, sneered, "Even he knows, he cannot trust himself."

Charlotte bristled at his nerve. He had no idea how difficult it was to maintain any control during a blood frenzy. Usually anything with a pulse in the vicinity would be decimated and yet three Versepellis had held Vargo back and none had been injured. If anything, the bald vampire ought to be commended, not vilified. Aware that Wolves paid more attention to scent than tone, she attempted to calm herself, stating,

"Believe it or not, not all of us are fiends."

The black man scoffed in reply, returning to gnawing on hunk of meat. Resting her head on the willowy woman's lap, Charn spoke,

"I assure you Babel, the vampire is beside himself with grief. He reeks of it."

Bieste remained silent, whittling away at a piece of wood in her immense hands. Babel continued, flicking his braids over his shoulder causing the bones tied in them to rattle,

"What's not to say, he's upset because we foiled his plan of enjoying a massacre?"

"It doesn't work like that!" Charn replied, indignantly.

The willowy blond, stroked the girl's hair lovingly,

"My daughter is one of the best trackers and if she says she can smell it, it must be true."

Babel pointed the leg of meat in Charlotte's direction,

"The only thing that stinks in here is _her._" He leaned towards Bieste, lowering his voice. The woman continued to whittle as he spoke, "You know my views on this whole mess. You are my Alpha and I will respect your decision but it is not up to us urto be caught in their power plays, lest we forget Crimson Dayspring. Send them home, we owe no fealty."

Throwing Charlotte one last glare, he got up and stalked off down the cavern disappearing amongst the other wolves.

There was a commotion further down as Puck, upright, wearing a dark blue smock, and Loren in her wolf form entered the cavern. The hulking light brown wolf shouldered people out of the way. Curling her top lip up at Charlotte, she flopped herself down, stretching out in front of the fire. Puck took a seat on the ground by Bieste, laying a blanket over his legs. The bear like man chuckled beside the vampire,

"It would seem my lass has taken a shine to ye."

Charlotte raised her eyebrows in disbelief,

"Is that what we are calling it these days?"

The hairy man let out a hearty laugh, slapping her on the shoulder with a meaty paw,

"I can see why she likes ye. "He offered a hand, "I'm Orin. It's nice to meet ye again."

Charlotte returned his stare, blankly.

"I'm sorry."

Through the wild beard and heavy moustache, the vampire thought she saw a smirk, but she could not be sure.

"I was your first wolfin, we met in Sophia's. I was a much younger man o'course. Well more like a boy."

Charlotte was about to reply when the willowy blond cut in, sarcastically,

"All this getting reacquainted is all rather cute but can we get on with what we came here to do?" She turned to Bieste who was showing Puck the small masterpiece that was beginning to resemble a dog's hindquarters and tail, "Has she been vouched for?"

Wrapping the small model and the knife in a soft piece of cloth, she placed it down in between Puck and herself,

"Ey. They've been vouched by Orin, Puck Loren, Charn and I."

The willowy blond looked taken aback by the admission and gave her daughter a pointed stare.

"What?" The teenager shrugged, "I can't smell any lies on them!"

Reluctantly satisfied, the wispy blond began,

"We are the Elders of this pack. Some of our members are not here at present but we have been given licence to speak on their behalf. Many of them are of the same opinion as Babel and believe we ought to sever all ties to your kind." Giving Charlotte a sly glance, she toyed with her daughter's hair, "I wish to know why the Council of Houses chose to send you as negotiator?"

Charlotte cleared her throat. She did not have leave to speak on behalf on anyone but Holly or herself. She was about to enter the quagmire that was politics, where one wrong word or misunderstanding could undo centuries of work and plunge Europe into a bloodbath.

"I am afraid you are under the wrong impression. I am not here in any capacity of The Council. I come to you on behalf of my Mistress, who is a long time friend of Sophia's and the head of House Dubois."

"Bieste!" The willowy blond spat, "They disrespect us! Rather than send an Emissary, they send us a lackey!"

Charlotte snarled, in reply,

"I am no lackey and I would prefer to know the name of the person who is insulting me!"

Orin laid a gentle hand on her forearm in an attempt to calm her. The discussion was becoming too heated, too fast,

"She's Zlena and she does nay mean to slight ye. We are parents in fear for the young un's and the backlash that may be coming our way. You understand?"

The vampire became aware that many of the Versipellis in the cavern had begun to take an interest in the conversation, with either pricked ears or twitching tails. She implored,

"This is why I am here. So I can return to Holly and then she can go to the Council and make assurances as to your innocence."

Orin paused, surprised,

"Ye mean ta say the Council don't know of this?"

The blond vampire cradled the pot on her hands,

"I do not know, I am sure Holly has sent word by now. The thrall arrived and I left in the same night."

Zlena regarded her suspiciously,

"How is that possible, that you were able to leave on such a journey in the same evening if you had no prior knowledge of such an assault?"

Bieste and the other Versepellis looked at Charlotte expectantly,

"My youngling was able to see into his mind and she it is not in her nature to lie."

"Trickery!" Zlena hissed, glaring at the other woman.

Charlotte's hackles rose and she bared her fangs in defence of her own child,

"If you met my youngling you would not be making such accusations!"

Orin shifted uncomfortably,

"I don't want to be making things worse but why didn't you bring her. It aint normal for a Dam to be so far from her offspring."

The two women continued to lock glares as Charlotte muttered,

"Mitigating circumstances."

Reaching for a water skin, Bieste began, slowly,

"I don't have to telling, ye are in our backyard and ye are _guests_ cause we say it. If you be in the knowing of a pie, I suggest that now is the tick tock, ye give us all a slice."

Charlotte let out a huff,

"Methuselah was not the only attack to have happened of late. On the evening the thrall arrived, House Dubois had another visitor, one who claims the Trials in England did not happen by accident."

The Elders and the youngsters listened with interest,

"Go on." Zlena encouraged.

Charlotte continued,

"She is a trustworthy source and she claims that their attackers were led to their Coven's doors. The sisterhood is in tatters and what are left are on the run. There has also been distressing news over the years of outlying villages decimated in the most gruesome of fashions; nothing with a pulse is spared."

The crackle of the fire and the grunts of the sleeping Versipellis filled the cavern, as they all remained deep in thought. Bieste broke the silence addressing the two youngsters,

"Puck, Charn, what did you find?"

The dark haired man scratched the back of his head,

"I don't know what to tell you. It's all messed up, but Wolves definitely had something to do with it."

"A Pack?" Orin asked, "Like intruders?"

Charn shifted uncomfortably, her voice timid,

"It's hard to explain. Yes, there were many but they were not exactly a Pack. There were others?"

Her mother smoothed her forehead, asking gently,

"Like who darling?"

The frail teenager sat up, sinking into her mother's side,

"They had humans with them and Cunning folk, but they weren't in fear. It smelt willing."

Charlotte added, indignantly,

"Vargo and I spoke with the towns folk. They didn't see anything out of the ordinary."

Puck shook is head, running his hand through the dense strip of hair,

"No, they stuck to the forest, we tracked them down into the South as far as we could but then it's like they disappeared." He gave the Alpha a look, before hesitantly continuing, "There's something more disturbing. The ground, it's been hexed and we suspect that they either took or ate their own dead."

Charn shuddered beside her mother who drew a fur further round her lithe shoulders. The adults exchanged nervous glances as Orin questioned,

"What makes ye say such things, my boy? Those be dark practises that ye speak of."

Zlena hugged her daughter close,

"Orin is right; such things have not been seen since the betrayal."

"I know what I saw. We could find non other than thralls and Sophie's kin. Tell them Charn, tell them the hue!" Puck demanded.

"It was dark green and light blue." The young girl's voice trembled,

"The land is cursed and cold."

Charlotte nodded in agreement,

"I can attest that what they say is true, I saw the bodies. Even in the grip of such a harsh winter, the woodland creatures have not come to scavenge. After such a huge assault, it would make sense that both sides suffered casualties."

"Ey, Sophie's kin would nae go down without a fight, Alpha." Orin rumbled.

A tension settled amongst them. A young Versiepllis came forward with a plate of meat and a warm pot, hesitantly placing it in the middle of the group. Charlotte could smell the difference in the blood and her mouth watered. Charn leant over handing it to her,

"We noticed when we were travelling you weren't too keen on the boar. Its deer."

Charlotte took it, noticing the way it bubbled and the warmth of the pot. She handed to youngster the cold one,

"I hope you don't think I was being rude.

The Wolves helped them selves to meat, all except Bieste, who sat deep in thought. Shredding the charred meat and sharing it with her daughter, Zlena said,

"No mere hedge witch could conjure magic powerful enough to mask a pack and salt the earth. It would take an apothecary or a Mystic and as a rule, Mystics do not play well with others."

Taking a long gulp of the searing hot blood, Charlotte added,

"I think we need to ask what would drive a Mystic to take such a risk, especially in these precarious times?"

Charn began to pick at her nails and chewed her bottom lips nervously,

"It was strange," The ash blond began, "They didn't have a base scent, not one I could identify anyway. There were no true born and the ones I could pick up were at least bitten four times removed, maybe more."

The adult wolves shared a dark look. Wiping the juices of the meat out of his beard as best he could, Orin asked through a mouthful,

"Is this true?"

The two youngsters nodded in confirmation. Charlotte shifted in her seat,

"I am quite lost? What is so important about the scent and number of bites?"

"This is what happens when they send an amateur." Zlena began to explain as if to a child, "A Wolves individual scent is their life story. It tells you what territories they have travelled, what pack they belong to, if they still do, where they place in that hierarchy, what they have been living off. A good tracker can even tell their age and how many times removed they have been bitten."

Puck cut in to break the tenseness,

"The number of times removed is how many bites away from a true born they are. We try never go over four. The further you get away from a true born the more likely it is to go wrong.. Some can go completely crazy, like that fella in France who announced himself. On the other hand, some might not make the transformation properly. Others can be caught in perpetual wolf form and those are the ones that hunt human flesh and give the rest of us a bad name."

Charlotte blinked in surprise,

"You can get all that from a smell?"

Zlena curtly replied, with a hint of malice,

"It is much the same when you taste your victims blood, you see there memories thoughts and feelings, if your inclined to listen."

Charlotte swelled and her muscles bunched. Zlena's attitude was beginning to grate on her. She had not expected to be greeted with joyous open arms but she had expected the courtesy extended to visitors. Vargo and she had not wanted to be caught in their currant situation but they had been given no choice. She would much prefer to be back in the safety of her casket travelling the highways and being taken back to her beloved Dam and offspring who she missed dearly. Instead she was sat, half starved in the back end of beyond, in a hole in the ground without any of her creature comforts behind the thin veil of protection awarded by five wolves, against a whole pack who despised her. She was suddenly filled with the longing to go home. Sensing her shift in mood, Bieste held up her hands,

"We know, no Mystic would take orders from a Wolf, nae matter how charming he is. Wolves have nae set foot on English soil for centuries so we can knock out the thought a Wolf led the Finder Generals. As you said, Mystics don't play nice with other folk, they can barely stand their own kind, So that leaves the Vampires."

Zlena jumped up, upsetting her daughter, roaring,

"I knew it! They come here accusing us!".

The remaining Versipellis in the hall turned to see what had caused the outburst.

"Sit yourself down right now!" The Alpha snarled, "Somebody wants us at each others throats!"

Zlena reluctantly seated herself, scowling at the vampire. Fixing Zlena with her piercing eyes, Bieste continued,

"As I was sayin. It would make sense. Have the Witches think the Vampires betrayed them. Leave evidence so the Wolves are blamed for the attack on the Vampires. Everyone who knows their history knows the Mystics and the Wolves would never work together. It's almost perfect." She swept a huge hand through the tight mop of curls. "It looks te me like someone is playing a dangerous game of silly buggers and wants The Houses, Covens and the Packs to crumble."

What Bieste said made sense. If it _was _a vampire then it would mean they had a rogue on their hands, one with enough charm and smarts to get this far, but to what end?

Her last time talking to Lucinda, she recalled that her younger sibling was being sent by Holly to make sense of unusual disturbances along the edges of her province. She herself had been dispatched to France in order to check out the claims of the Wolfman and eliminate him if need be.

She was weakened, exhausted and in need of much rest before she could attempt to piece everything she had been told, together. Her skin began to prick, heralding the approach of dawn. She took in the cavern and realised that many of the Wolves and Versipellis had left. Standing, she emptied the contents of her mug,

"The hour grows late." She turned, bowing graciously, "I thank you for your hospitality but I must bid you good morning."

Puck got to his feet,

"I shall escort you to your quarters."

Nodding to each Elder in turn, Charlotte gathered her cloak and made her way through the caverns floor with Puck close behind. Clambering up the exit, she swallowed huge gulps of clean fresh air. Many of the hatches had been closed and fires dampened.

In silence, Puck led her back to the burrow Vargo and she had taken residence in. He waved away the guarding Versipellis.

They entered the small foxhole and Puck pulled down the hatch behind them. Loren sat up when they entered, rubbing herself against Puck's legs in greeting. He scratched her affectionately behind the ear.

Whilst she had been gone, someone had replaced the two beds with caskets. Not surprisingly, Vargo had already gone to ground.

"Thank you Puck and Loren."

Puck began to arrange the bedding on the floor, whilst Loren watched her keenly, her tail occasionally thumping the ground.

"Charlotte," Puck began quietly, "I know it must be hard for you, but my Ma is trying. She has a whole pack to consider."

"I understand." The weary vampire replied, "This whole situation is taking a lot of us and tempers are frayed. I am just terrified that we shall not be able to control ourselves. Blood is the bane of our existence."

Puck touched her shoulder lightly,

"I know of a sickly fur trapper. He hurt himself and was unable to make it out before the big snows, so he decided to hunker down. If I get permission from the Elders, I'll bring you."

She smiled, weakly,

"That would be much appreciated."

She clambered into her casket, sinking into the thick, warm furs. Puck went to close the lid,

"Get some rest. Loren and I shall sleep in the burrow with you this evening, just in case. I think no one shall cause any trouble but it is best to stay on the safe side."

She snuggled further into the softness, enjoying the encompassing dark. For the first time in centuries, she craved the commanding bond with her Dam. She wished for the comfort of feeling her settled deep within the tunnels of her mind, lulling her to a peaceful sleep full of dreams and memories.

X

**p.s Somebody asked me about Vargo.. When ever I write him I can't help but imagine Regina's Father from OUAT. Weird, I know but Its how I see him. **


	20. Chapter 20

**Dear Guest who goes by the rather apt name of Loser**, if you are still reading this, then I kinda have a bone to pick with you. I would have much preferred to have this conversation in private but I guess beggars cannot be choosers.

If you wish to slam somebody's work, by all means go ahead but have the lady balls to take yourself off guest and allow them to defend their work.

Therefore, here goes. I understand that at the beginning, Yes, it was meant to be a collection of ficlets and one shots, somebody else pointed it out earlier and not half as rudely as you did, might I add. Therefore, I changed the summary and it clearly states **Original Fic. **

If you had not already noticed by chapter 4, the fiction acquired a life of its own and turned into a multi chapter. Art has a way of doing that. Starting out as one thing and ending up becoming something else.

Now I know your going to attempt to defend yourself by stating (in a high pitched nasally voice, deep from under the gnarly bridge you inhabit, cause that's the only way I can imagine you right now)

"Well you said summary inside and on quite a few chapters it says collection of ficlets and one shots"

Well, allow me to soothe your steed as you peer at me from your lofty heights of self-righteous indignation.

Not everybody is tech savvy and a computer genius, I assure you I am not, Laptops have a way of exploding on me.. Think of me as Penny from TBBT. It took me the bones of a day to figure out how to use this site. Go on giggle, I don't mind.

I admit my dumbassery.

The god damn reason why I haven't gone through and deleted that little line that offends you, oh so much, is because I haven't figured out how to yet, without re uploading the chapters and pissing off everyone that's following by filling up their inboxes with stupid updates telling them that I've done it.. Just for one freaking sentence. Everyone else seems to have picked up on the fact it's a fiction and hasn't minded.

Now I do not mind constructive criticism as much as the next girl does, hell as writers we need it. But when you felt the need to say it in the way you did, I'm left wondering if your Mother ever told you,

"If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything at all."

**Loser, don't forget the number 1 rule of FanFiction. **

_(All together kids.)_

"**If you don't like it, then don't read it!" **

For those of you that are following and have reviewed, I truly appreciate your support. It makes all the blood, sweat, time and effort worth it… Also I apologise for the rant.

Kitty ….. Over and Out!

Does not follow any particular vampire lore or universe. It is completely my own.

Disclaimer: Don't own the names of glee characters.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

X

VAMP VERSE

X

_Italy. Lucinda says. 1690. House of Bastian, so the pompous prick likes to call it. _

X

If there was one thing that Santana Lopez knew, was that she was gorgeous. Like, trip over your feet and land face first in a puddle, gorgeous.

Before she had been so rudely murdered and forced into this sacrilegious existence, she had many suitors. From a young age, it had not gone unnoticed how men and women would stare at her as she passed by and she had quickly learned how to wield her God given wares.

Now, make no mistake, she had not lowered herself to the levels of, lets say, that of a harlot but she had on occasion used her looks in order to get her own way.

And why shouldn't she?

If you've got it, flaunt it!

She had to some how get Sebastian to loosen his grip upon her by gaining his trust and at the same time weaken his two lackey linchpins, without making it obvious and the only way she could see how to do that would be to play along.

Even though her lover, how she loved thinking of her that way, had made a promise on some corporeal plain of existence, she could not run the risk of Brittany becoming impatient and attempting to find her.

She had to put a plan in motion and in order to do that she would have to use her feminine wiles.

Yes, Santana Lopez knew she was gorgeous and she also knew exactly who wouldn't be able to resist.

X

The ornate, lavish bathhouse was dimly light by flickering candle light and the air was thick with heavily incensed steam.

For what she was about to attempt, it was the perfect ambience, really.

She lay in wait, languishing in the scorching water of the intricately detailed roman bath, praying to herself,

"Please turn up. Please turn up."

The door opened and her mark entered.

'Jackpot'

Keeping herself perfectly still, she peered over the tiled edge with nothing save her eyes and soaked raven hair visible.

There were two things about her undead life she appreciated and revelled in, apart from Brittany, of course, and that was her stealth and speed. Ryder and Sebastian had commented, in a rare moment of praise, that nobody could match her.

She imagined she was a crocodile on the Nile waiting patiently for her prey to approach the river's edge. With their back turned to her, her mark began to disrobe.

The gentle notes of a lyre drifting in from a high, small window and the occasional plink of droplets were the only sounds to break the warm, lazy silence.

She took in the smooth, pale skin and the nude body that appeared before her as they allowed their clothes to pool around their ankles. As her mark began to turn round, she slid down, concealing herself. Changing her position, she leant back against the tiles of the pool, once more leaving only the tip of her nose and her forehead above the water's edge. Rose petals lightly marred the millpond surface, steam rose from it, curling up, idly.

Her mark slowly descended the gradual steps of the baths entrance with one long, sculptured leg, then the other. They seated themselves on the steps where the water engulfed them up to their waist.

Santana rolled her eyes, for a vampire they really were a dumbass.

Unaware of Santana's presence, they filled up a nearby jug, tipping the contents over their head, drawing their fingers through their hair and down along a pale neck.

The brunette steeled herself.

'Here goes nothing.'

Raising her chin just above the water, she floated towards the other vampire, rasping seductively,

"Hi."

Lylah froze, her green eyes wide in shock,

"Oh my god! I thought it was empty."

Drawing her pink tongue over her fangs, Santana smirked devilishly,

"I don't mind, unless you do?"

She continued to leisurely approach the red head. Lylah tipped her head coquettishly. Returning the brunette's smirk, she purred,

"I never mind a play mate."

Keeping eye contact, Santana arched an eyebrow, impishly.

A thrall entered, letting in a blast of cold air. Santana could not have planned it anymore perfectly. She pouted her full, plump lips, feigning disappointment,

"Just when things were about to get interesting, it would seem I have to leave."

Standing up, the water tantalizingly lapping just below her hips, and the cold air causing her nipples to peak, she slowly and deliberately squeezed the excess water from her hair, allowing it to flow down the valley of her pert, dusky coloured breasts.

Lylah licked her lips, her eyes watching Santana's every move, flitting between her wet, supple body and her face.

"Like what you see?" Santana lightly teased.

Grinning, Lylah slid herself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool, blatantly drinking in the Latin girl's naked glory.

Deliberately passing within a hairs breathe of the entranced vampire, she paused a moment to allow the red head to soak up her curves and how rivulets of water rolled down the flawless, caramel skin of her back and thighs.

She heard the other girl let out an almost in audible gasp and smelt the arousal that seeped into the air. As she walked away, she smirked to herself, adding a sensual sway to her hips.

'Bring it home Lopez'

Bending over to retrieve her drying blanket, she made sure to give Lylah a perfect view of her toned, shapely backside. Turning round and peering at the vampire through her long dark lashes, she bunched the drying blanket in her hands, drawing it along her legs and up her toned stomach. Locking eyes with Lylah's devouring gaze, she trailed her fingers up her inner thigh, lingering over the soft curls of her mound.

She bit her lip as she watched Lylah open her legs and slip her hand between her thighs, stroking herself.

The tangy, sweet scent of arousal filled the room.

Santana continued to dry herself, unabashedly cupping her full breasts. Tweaking her nipples, she let out a tiny hiss and she was sure she heard a small moan escape the other girl.

Flashing a mischievous smirk, she wrapped the blanket around herself, tying it under her arm. Opening the door she followed the thrall out. Throwing over her shoulder a seductive wink, she lustily, breathed,

"Until next time!"

Closing the door firmly behind her, she let out a deep breath, smiling to herself.

Yes, Santana Lopez was gorgeous and she knew it was only a matter of time before the bear came to the honey tree.

X

**p.s Please don't kill me! It's not what it seems. I swear! **


	21. Chapter 21

Hey Guys and Doll. .

I love how supportive you all are. Some of your comments about the epicness of the rant cracked me up.

And quite a few of you were jealous of Miss Lylah… I'm jealous of her an I created her.;p That lucky russet haired mare!

I just wanna ask, has a fuck tonne of M rated fics been deleted again?

So far Ive had trouble finding. **I love you nerd. ** **When Running Away **and **Something Four Glory? **

Cause if they are going on a mass sweep yet again I aint going to be a happy Kitty and as u guys have seen an unhappy Kitty has claws. I was really looking forward to the new chaps as I've been following them from the very beginning.

Any whooo. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy.

Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

X

VAMP VERSE

X

_Italy. 1690. House of Bastian._

X

Over the last few weeks, due to her newly turned over leaf of behaviour, Sebastian had given her license to roam the grounds of the 'Play House' as it was dubbed, on command of behaving herself.

How ever, the silver manacles remained.

She had noticed he did not sit so heavy in her mind as much. He was still a presence but it seemed his grip upon her inner most thoughts was beginning to wane, as she had been able to successfully conceal Brittany's existence and mask her intentions towards Lylah.

She had taken to inquisitively wandering the halls and courtyards of the sweeping building and she was almost sure she knew the layout by heart. She had also made a point of getting to know many of the acrobats and bards in order to not raise suspicion as to her sudden interest in the russet haired vampire.

In talking to the entertainers, she had gleaned that they were in the heart of Rome and she was surprised to find,with no knowledge as to the nature of the house and their employers true form, assuming it was all part of some elaborate show, the House of Bastian was a gig many performers coveted. To land a gig in the 'Play House' was a golden ticket to bigger and brighter things as contacts could be made and gigs secured in the houses of the, visiting, affluent of the city.

Wishing to give the illusion that the dark and seedy lifestyle was growing on her and knowing many eyes would be watching, reporting back to their Master, she had taken to idly passing conversation with the revellers that frequented the place, going so far as to serve them whilst parting flirtatious encouragements.

A well placed devilish smirk, arched eyebrow, an extra sway in her hips or a fleeting trail of her fingertips, here or there, had gone far.

She had yet to join in with the lustful behaviours of her brethren but she left many hints that it would only be a matter of time. Whilst she cavorted and pandered to those that made her skin crawl, she had watched the comings and goings of the Versepilllis, taking mental note as to which doors were heavily guarded.

She had learned how to spot her own kind with one glance, yet one or two members of Sebastian's entourage she could not fathom and it unsettled her. Aware of the many charms that protected the entrances, she had still yet to come up with a complete plan.

Even if she, herself, could not escape, it was detrimental that Lucinda did.

All Santana needed was the opportunity and she sensed it would arise sooner rather than later.

The feeling in the air was that something was going on, something big.

Small things had given it away.

The number of Vampires present had dwindled, new coffins and a carriage had been acquired and fresh, beautiful, plump girls had been brought in.

Her Sire did not trust her enough to mention his plans in front of her, any time she approached he would immediately lower his voice or change the subject completely, all the while, warily watching her.

She had attempted to delicately coax it from Ryder but to no avail. The fawning mooncalf was too loyal or rather; he wished to continue receiving the regular ass fucking he craved. Santana was no fool; she could tell by the way he watched the weasel's every move with longing and the brief flashes of jealousy when Sebastian chose to take the dawning with someone else.

That left only one person.

The person that could not help but drip when she passed by.

X

Santana sensually weaved her way through the throng of partygoers, waving her fingers seductively and blowing teasing kisses to those she recognised.

The Play House was almost overflowing and caught in the grip of hedonistic jubilation. Upon the strange death of the boy-loving Cardinal, Medici's nephew, Alex, had been named to take his place and the pigman wished to celebrate, sharing his young nephew's good fortune.

Santana couldn't help but wonder what great theological debate a 3 year old could contemplate other than the holy rattle of Christ or Blessed be thy shitty nappy but she had come to learn that the Vatican, like any other Royal house or established institution, was just as corrupt and power hungry.

She was aware that many of the guests had turned up in order to court Medici's favour.

With the Holy Roman Catholic churche's blind conviction of its followers and the ability to proverbially pull on the souls of thousands, creating an unlimited resource of a potential army, it stood to reason that it would be rather lucrative indeed to have the ear of a Cardinal.

Nothing mobilised the sheep into giving money or volunteering for a 'religious war' than the offer of absolution of your immortal soul and the promise of a clean slate.

If she didn't know any better, she would see the appeal, she really would.

However the irony of the level of debauchery she was witnessing in the name of celebrating the holy infant did not go a miss and amused her no end.

Serving a blond, tittering youth who groped her ass whilst his friends leered, she imagined breaking the jug over his head and snapping his wrist just to teach him a lesson; instead, she smiled wickedly and perked her backside out even more as she scanned the crowd.

Her eyes alighted on the one she was looking for.

Lylah had her skirts bunched round her waist, her pale breasts spilling from her top, bouncing, as, reverse cowboy, she rode the fingers of the stomach-turning woman, beneath her.

She locked eyes with her across the crowd. Santana grinned and deliberately licked her lips.

The red head redoubled her efforts. Palming her own breasts, she kept eye contact with the brunette. Her face became slack with ecstasy as she continued to rock herself, vigorously, into the body beneath. Guests watching the lewd display whooped and hollered in encouragement as Sebastian observed from his lofty heights.

Santana took her shot.

Placing down the jug, she quickly made her way through the crowd coming to stop in front on the russet haired girl.. As Lylah bobbed, her moans and arousal filling the air, Santana cupped her cheek. The vampire looked taken aback by the sudden contact.

Santana roughly palmed the girl's breasts. Lylah's eyes rolled back in her head, letting out a long, low moan as she began to reach her climax.

'Forgive me Brittany.'

Catching the red heads lips in her own, she swallowed Lylah's cries, dominating her with her tongue and whipping the voyeurs into a frenzy as the vampire continued to ride out her orgasm.

Spent, Lylah fell forward into the smaller girl. As the red head climbed off the woman's fingers, Santana snatched them up. Staring at the pale vampire, she sucked on them, letting a sensual hum of enjoyment escape her.

A brief look of shock passed over the russet girl's features to be replaced by bemusement,

"You're a tease!"

Santana coyly, twirled a piece of her hair, breathing,

"You have no idea."

Lylah wrapped her fingers into Santana's dark locks, kissing her full force on the mouth, tasting herself on the brunette's tongue. Pulling back, she murmured,

"I'd like to find out!"

Trailing her fingertips along a porcelain collarbone, Santana pouted her plump lips,

"It's a shame Sebastian won't allow it."

Attempting to fix her dishevelled appearance, Lylah winked,

"When the cats away the mice will play."

She picked up a goblet. Taking a huge gulp, she grabbed Santana once more. Tipping her back, she kissed her allowing the blood to trickle into her mouth whilst their tongues slid over each other, the excess dribbling down the brunette's jaw and neck.

The latin girl felt a twinge of guilt when arousal surged through her, the smell of blood and the way she was being so forcefully kissed, causing her to throb. Lylah continued to nip and nibble on her lips until Santana gently pushed her away, swallowing the warm, vicious liquid. She slowly drew a finger along her bottom lip, noticing how the bright eyed vampire, hungrily watched her every move.

She smirked,

"Maybe we should go somewhere and if you tell me what you mean by 'If the cats away', I'll allow you to do that again?"

Entwining their fingers, Lylah grinned and. the voyeurs' groaned in dismay as she began to lead the smaller girl back through the crowd. Spying a lounge sofa, Lylah shooed away two harlot boys, ordering,

"If you're not sucking dick, do something useful and fetch us some taint."

The boys scampered away as she flopped down.

'Its about the teasing not the pleasing.' Santana reminded herself.

Hitching up her skirts, she straddled the red head,

"I think it's hot when you're forceful."

"Oh yeah?" The alabaster girl replied,

Santana nodded. Lylah gripped her by her thighs and flung her on to the sofa. Gripping her wrists just underneath the manacles, she pinned the latin girl with her body, grinding down into Santana's core. The brunette let out a gasp.

"Fuck," She breathed, bucking her hips against the girl above.

The red head trailed her tongue up the shell of Santana's ear, husking,

"Id love nothing more than to take off those manacles and fuck you properly. I'd fuck you so hard that you would be begging for me to stop." She continued to suck and nibble down along a caramel neck, "Would you like that?"

Lying back, imagining it was Brittany, teasing her with those words, Santana let out a whimper. Mustering her resolve, she challenged,

"If these manacles came off you wouldn't be able to handle me."

Lylah sank her teeth into the tanned, soft, flesh just above Santana's breath causing her to hiss at the slight, sweet, sting of pain. She heard the red head murmur,

"Oh really?"

Wrapping her legs tighter round Lylah's waist, she rocked herself against her, retorting,

"Take them off and I promise I won't disappoint."

Keeping her slender wrists pinned with one hand, the porcelain girl slide her other under Santana's top and drew her nails, harshly down her stomach as she watched her face. The brunette quivered, staring straight back into green eyes, daring the other girl to carry on. Lylah leant down to catch her lips, whispering against them between light kisses,

"When Seb goes away in a few days I guess we shall find out."

Santana smiled inwardly. Wriggling a hand free, she pulled the lithe girl flush on top of her, kissing her hard. Worming her fingers into russet hair, she began to pull out the pins that held it in place,

"What are you doing?" Lylah snickered,

"I think you would look way hotter with your hair down."

Lylah sat up and began to remove the pins from her hair, allowing it to cascade in gentle locks over her shoulders not noticing as Santana slipped two pins into the lining of her skirt.

She licked and nibbled on alabaster skin as the other girl flirtatiously posed with her hair on her head, or pouted playfully, giving Santana a show and making her laugh

It really was a shame, Santana had no idea what would happen to the pretty, red head when she escaped. Maybe in a different life, she and Lylah could have had some fun but she was one of the things that stood between her and her lover and she would do what ever it took, even if that meant staking a few bitches along the way.

X

**Ps You're going to lynch me aint ya? Tell me what you think. **

.


	22. Chapter 22

My god, you guys are really on the fence with this whole Lylah thing.

Some of you want to kill her, others want to slap the shit out of San, some of you want Britt and Lylah to throw down, but the majority of you are well jel of her.

Brittana is end game!

Once again, thanks for your reviews and hopefully FF with get their House in order before I send the council headed by either Lucinda or Charlotte down there to sort that shit out.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Switzerland. 1690. House of Dubois._

X

Brittany slumped forward, thunking her forehead against the warm, mahogany dining table, groaning,

"Please can we take a break? I'm exhausted."

The sweltering warmth of the Dining room was draining the blond vampire and she was finding it difficult to concentrate. Across from her, Kurt whined, rubbing his temples,

"Me too. We've been at it for hours and I'm hungry."

The two younglings had learned that without a doubt, Holly was a taskmaster. The flaxen blond leaned her knuckles on the smooth wooden surface, looking between the two. The youngsters shared a glance then turned to stare at Holly, Brittany, with her wide baby blues and best kicked puppy expression, whilst Kurt pouted. They begged in unison,

"Please!"

Brittany could see the older vampire's resolve wavering and she added a quiver to her bottom lip. Throwing her hands in the air, Holly conceded, chuckling at them,

"Ok, ok. You're off the hook."

The two youngsters immediately brightened, smirking at each other. Brittany raised her hand over the table and Kurt rose up to high five her.

Holly rolled her eyes,

"I swear, I've created a monster." Grinning broadly, she added, "The pair of you are as thick as thieves"

Once it had become apparent that Brittany actually could access another vampire's memories, her Grand Dam had demanded that she practise and had volunteered Kurt as her guinea pig.

At first, Brittany had struggled and he had actively kept her out, stating, he felt it was a breach of confidence, having Brittany gallivanting around in his head. He had also expressed concern that the golden blond might try to convince him that he was, in actual fact a nymph or a woodland creature.

Holly had teased that he pranced around like a woodland creature anyway, so what difference would it make.

Needless to say, he had sniffed and sulked for the rest of the evening.

Seeing his point, Brittany had come up with a genius idea, it was only fair that for every memory she witnessed, she would share something of herself and she had.

Over the weeks, they had come to know almost everything about each other. They now thought of themselves as best friends.

Holly was forever cursing the mischief they would get up to, such as, making the thralls break out into an impromptu Bavarian folk dance or attempting to play tag, nearly wreaking the house as they flung themselves, clinging and crawling along the walls and ceilings. Brittany had even managed to get Kurt to brave the outdoors and enjoy playing hide and seek in the forest, whilst he taught her to enjoy the finer things in life. It had turned out once she learned how all the pretty horses and castles moved, she was a damn wicked hand at chess.

"A treat, I think, is in order?"

Holly motioned to the thrall in the corner, who ambled forward and began to serve. Picking up a book, she settled herself in her big, comfortable chair and began to flick through the pages.

This is what their evenings had become, relaxing with her new family, in either the dining hall or library if her Grand Dam had visitors. Recently they had been quite a few, being she was part of something called The Council. On those occasions, she asked Brittany to keep hidden, as she did not want anyone becoming aware of her abilities, not just yet.

As Charlotte had instructed, she was still attending her lessons, with Kurt as her teacher, learning the histories and literature. She had even been able to pick back up her hobby from her old life, sketching and painting the landscapes of her dreams. Holly kindly provided any materials she asked for without question.

The young vampire still keenly missed her Dam. She had a suspicion that her two companions' deliberately kept her busy in order to keep her mind occupied, preventing her from wallowing, like she had done the first few weeks of her Mistresses absence.

Waiting for their feast Kurt started to, comically, copy Holly's every move and facial expression causing Brittany to snigger. Pursing her lips, the older vampire fixed him with a pointed stare as he feigned innocence and pretended to inspect his nails.

Brittany licked her lips in anticipation, bouncing in her seat with barely contained excitement as the thrall filled the huge goblet in front of her. No sooner was he done, when she snatched up the glass, meaning to take an eager draft.

Kurt gasped. Placing a pale hand over her goblet, he chided,

"No, no Brittany. We don't gulp it, we sip it."

She pouted. Looking at him forlornly, she began,

"But.."

He waved his hand,

"I am stopping the heinous crime you are about to commit upon this fine glass of Bordeaux."

Sitting back in his chair and resting his elbow on the armrest, he crossed one leg over the other with a flourish. His hand cupping the smooth curve of the under side of his goblet, he began to swirl it languidly,

"Now young grasshopper, we savour it."

He took a long sniff, using his other hand to waft the air. Brittany copied him. It smelt oaky and full of bite. He continued,

"Allow the flavours to linger over your palette, like so."

He took a delicate sip, swilling it round his mouth. Making a display, he tipped his head this way and that, as if in deep in thought. Playfully furrowing his brow, he swallowed, smacking his lips together. Putting on fake posh accent, well posher than usual, he announced,

"Bolly, bolly Miss Holly, I do believe this to be the finest vintage to date and I commend your excellence in choice."

Brittany stifled her giggles at his antics. Holly shook her head at him,

"You are such a drama queen," She took a mouthful of her own. "Pay no attention to him Brittany and enjoy it how you like."

Kurt mocked a look of wounded hurt, imploring,

"I am not! I am simply a connoisseur!"

A thrall entered the room, shuffling as fast as it could, its shoes scrapping along the floor, handed Holly a rolled up parchment. Wiping its mouth with a handkerchief, she muttered to no one in particular,

"I think we need new thralls. With the way they are dribbling we are not too far away from rowing round the house."

Brittany attempted to copy Kurt, taking a huge mouthful; she crossed her eyes and made a fish face, puffing out and sucking in her cheeks. Kurt burst into a fit of giggles spraying alcohol-tainted blood everywhere. Holly glanced up, briefly, in disapproval before returning to read the parchment, her features grave.

The thrall dutifully stepped forward and began to clean up the mess as the two youngsters began kicking each other under the table. One particular hard kick missed it's target, banging against wood causing the table to shake. Kurt winced.

"Children, Please!" Holly snapped, uncharacteristically.

The two young vampires immediately looked guilty. Their eyes darting between the flaxen blond engrossed in the letter in her hands and each other, they continued to pull funny faces. Brittany put her thumb to her nose, stuck out her tongue and wiggled her fingers. Kurt scowled, darkly, mouthing that she would pay.

Frowning, Holly muttered to herself,

"This is not good."

Taking a long draft from her goblet, the older vampire sank further into her seat. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she let out a sigh. The boisterous vampires immediately stopped what they were doing. Worried, Kurt inquired,

"Are you ok?"

Holly lay down the parchment, fixing Brittany with her bright green eyes.

"Brittany," She began, quietly, "I need you to tell me about Santana."

The young blond startled. Why would her Songbird suddenly become a topic of conversation? Her eyes flittered, nervously between the parchment and Holly's face.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

Pausing, her Grand Dam steepled her long fingers continuing to watch the youngster.

Cold tendrils of panic crept up her spine at Holly's serious expression. She closed her eyes, almost terrified of the answer, but she needed to know. Her voice shook with timbre of emotion,

"Is she in trouble?"

"Why would you think she's in trouble, Honey Bee?"

The young girl toyed with her glass to give her hands something to do so nobody else would notice the slight shake,

"She made me promise not to come looking for her and when I see her, she's always sort of sad. She never used to be."

Getting up from her seat at the head of the table, Holly pulled out the one beside Brittany. Seating herself, she took the girl's hand, squeezing it with earnest,

"It's important you tell me everything. Spare no detail."

So she did and for the first time, she was completely honest.

They sat long into the night as thralls refilled their glasses and kept the fire going. She explained how she had first become aware of her, back in Basque many years ago, and how beautifully she would sing. She told them of the kiss and the images she had witnessed of a time and a place she could not name. How she could feel the other vampire and, on occasion, share in her emotions, that being the cause of her behaviour with the burning thrall.

All the while, the other two vampires listened intently as she described their dreamscapes and shared moments. She told them of the shared bites that happened whilst they slept and frolicked on some ethereal plain of existence yet still managed to appear in her waking world.

But most of all, she admitted that even though it was strange and crazy that they had only met once in the flesh, that she felt, no she knew, that somehow they were meant to meet and one day be together. That even though Brittany was technically Thirty odd years older than Santana, fate had given them the gift of their undead lives, just so they would have the chance for that to happen.

Kurt clutched his heart, claiming an attack of the feels.

When she was finished, Holly began to pace,

"This is not good!"

Brittany's face fell,

"How can you say that?"

"Why?" Kurt asked, "I think it's rather sweet."

The flaxen blond vampire, reached for her goblet, stating, solemnly,

"It's dangerous. She's the great grand daughter of a Mystic and quite a powerful one at that."

Kurt normally alabaster skin, lightened further still. He breathed,

"Oh shit!"

Looking between the two, Brittany implored, desperately,

"What does that mean?"

Too soothe her; Holly began stroking the youngling's smooth golden hair,

"Nothing Darling. We're worried that whoever rebirthed her may become aware of your connection and use it or Santana against you or our family."

Brittany shook her head, ferverantly as she sniffed,

"Songbird would never do that."

Her Grand Dam, softened her voice,

"Oh Honey Bee, I'm sure she wouldn't but if her Maker commanded her, she might not have a choice."

"She's right," Kurt, offered, gently, "Next time when you see her in one of your dream thingys, just be careful what you say."

Crouching down in front of the young girl and resting on her knees, Holly whispered,

"Brittany, look at me," Brittany blinked furiously, her eyes glistening with unshed, tears, Holly continued with trepidation, "Maybe it's best you don't see her at all." The girl let out a whimper at her words, "Just to be on the safe side, until we can figure out who her Dam or Sire is and what their intentions are."

The young girl stood up suddenly, twisting away from her elder,

"No!" She cried, "We've been apart too long. The next time I see her I'm asking out right where she is and then I'm going to get her!"

"Please, Brittany!" Kurt begged, "Let us at least look into it, so we know what we are dealing with, then we shall go get her, I promise!"

"Fine!" Brittany snarled, "But if anything happens to her," She waved her finger at the pair of them, "I'm holding you both responsible."

Without a backward glance, she stormed out of the door, slamming it behind her. Resting against it to steady the torrent of emotion deep with his, she heard Kurt's distinctive voice,

"The Sisterhood believe the undead, to be sacrilegious. They will not stand for this."

Holly resigned,

"I know."

"What do you think they will do?"

"You know full well what they will do."

"And what are we going to do?".

"She is one of us, we shall protect her."

"She's neither House Dubois or House Franz."

"She is my grand daughter's and that is enough for me. However, mention this to no one and at first dark, make arrangements for travel of three at a drop of a hat. Good Morning Kurt."

Brittany alighted down the passageway as quickly as she could.

What did they mean by the Sisterhood?

Was Santana in trouble and had chosen to keep it from her instead of trusting her asking for help?

Why was everyone hiding, lying and keeping secrets from her?

She was beginning to tire of people treating her like an infant.

Did they not realise she could march right in there and squeeze it from them, clutching their brains till they turned to mush and all they would be able to do was dribble like a thrall. They should be grateful she had not figured out how to manifest their dreams into realities or she would have them barking on the floor, believing they were dogs.

She had done it to man in Paris, just to see if she could, making him believe that he was a cockroach. It had been amusing at first, watching him attempt to scurry beneath the wardrobe to the safety of darkness and the way he flinched every time he felt a vibration or loud sound. It had eventually grown pathetic and having not learned how to reverse it, or even caring, she had left him.

She would give them however many days to prepare but first she was going to get some straight answers out of Santana!

X

**p.s oooerr a little bit of pissy Britt. **


	23. Chapter 23

Well Guys and Dolls, it seems you like Annoyed Britt. Gaaaa who am I kidding, we all love Possessive Angry Britt!

Hope you like this .. Now go easy, im still a baby when it comes to this.

**Reader Discretion is advised. **(just taking care of my own ass)

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckIsInTheHat**

**x**

VAMP VERSE

X

_Who cares? 1690._

X

Simmering with pent up anger, she stepped into the room she had created, she didn't recognise it, but it looked similar in shape and build to her simple bedroom in France, if a little expensively furnished with a wardrobe, bed and small vanity.

It was of no importance to her that the furniture looked out of place being that; interior design was not the reason why she had come here. A weak candle guttered in a glass lantern in the small windowsill, barely creating any glow. Again, it was of no consequence to her, it was not as if they needed it. A darker shadow shifted in the room and she could hear the soft swish of material.

Good, she was already here. She wouldn't have to wait or stew for any longer than she already had.

Brittany stepped further into the small room. Turning Santana beamed at her, showing the dimples in her cheeks Brittany adored so much,

"Babe! I'm so glad you're here," She took a step forward, "I missed you!"

No! Brittany steeled herself. Santana's cuteness was not going to work this time. She was going to get some answers if it was the last thing she did. Brittany scowled holding up a pale hand,

"Don't!

The small brunette faltered. Sucking in her bottom lip, her eyebrows rose in confusion. Not missing a beat, Brittany ordered,

"Tell me where you are! Right now!"

Leaning her shoulders back against the wardrobe and crossing her arms at her waist, Santana replied, defensively.

"No!"

"Why won't you tell me?"

Santana snapped back,

"Because Luce and I will be out of there by the end of the week, so there isn't any point. By the time you set off, we shall be on our way."

"Who's Luce?"

Santana remained silent, staring out across the room

Blocking her line of sight by bracing herself against the wardrobe, hands just above either side of Santana's head, Brittany threatened,

"Don't make me come in there and find out for myself. I can assure you, you will not like it!"

"Please!" Santana fearfully, begged, "Don't!"

Narrowing her eyes, the blond demanded,

"What aren't you telling me? Are you fucking her? Is that why you don't want me to find you?"

"No!" Santana snarled angrily.

The blond crinkled her nose, picking up an lingering essence mingling in with the spicy, sweet scent of her lover. It was faint, but it was still there, hanging on the periphery smelling of oranges but more disturbingly, it definitely smelt of someone else..

"Has somebody else touched you?" She accused.

Brittany watched brown eyes flitter around the room, avoiding her gaze as the brunette mumbled unconvincingly,

"No."

Looming over the smaller girl, Brittany growled,

"Don't lie to me, Santana!"

"It's not important."

The blond slammed her palm into the soft wood causing it to splinter as she yelled,

"It is to me!"

Santana ducked under Brittany's pale arm storming to the other side of the room, shouting,

"I've had to do things, ok. Things I'm not proud of."

As the blond struggled to get her hand back from the hole in the wood, she wrenched the door from its hinges in frustration where it clattered to the floor, shooting the younger vampire a sharp look,

"Like what exactly?"

Santana spat,

"You know what."

If Brittany had a heart, it would be in her throat right now.

They had been apart for over twenty years and it would be naive of Brittany to assume a girl as hot as Santana would not have plenty of offers and maybe indulge herself now and again, but it didn't stop the bitter sting she felt at the brunettes words.

She wanted to scream and shout at the other girl but she knew had no right. Santana had done, for whatever reason, what she felt she had to.

It was not as if they were officially together or had come to an agreement to be monogamous.

Hell, could vampires even be monogamous?

When you were undead, "till death do us part" sort of became redundant and eternity literally meant _eternity._

Nevertheless, deep down she had hoped, that after the dreamscapes began to happen, that she would be her lover's only one and just because the blond couldn't say how pissed she was didn't mean she wasn't swelling with jealousy.

There was no way in hell she was going to allow some cheap whore take what was rightfully hers, especially not when they were so close.

She had to make Santana understand whom she belonged to.

She purposefully stalked across the room causing the Latin girl, wide eyed, to take tiny, unsure, steps backwards until she bumped against the wall. Brittany continued to approach, her blue eyes flashing with anger,

"What ever is going on, it stops, right now! Do you understand?"

Swallowing, Santana nodded.

Grasping the smaller vampire by the back of the neck with her left hand, Brittany crashed their lips together, kissing her hard. The fingers of her right clutched the flimsy material of the dress beneath. It tore like paper as she ripped it from the brunette's body, flinging it across the room, leaving her completely naked.

Caramel skin goose bumped beneath her touch as she drew her hand over the swell of Santana's breast, giving it a firm squeeze and flicking the puckered nipple with her thumb. Swallowing Santana's tiny whimper, she bit down on the plump bottom lip between her teeth and sucked hard as she pressed her body flush against the girl, pinning her.

She felt Santana's hand rest at the small of her back, twisting the fabric of her shirt beneath, whilst the other gripped her hair. The blond firmly stroked lithe, curves, digging her thumb into the groove of the prominent hip bone, enjoying how they buckled in reaction. Grinning to herself, Brittany let go of Santana's lip, resting their foreheads together and noses millimetres apart, admiring how red and swollen it looked. Her lover pushed herself off the wall, eagerly following and attempting to draw shell pink lips back to her own.

Gripping and lifting a slender, tanned thigh round her waist, Brittany slammed her back into the hard surface with force, commanding in a lusty voice,

"Behave!"

The blond was sure she heard a distinctive crack and felt the wall buckle slightly but she didn't care as she dug her nails into the soft flesh beneath and yanked the younger vampire's head to one side, exposing her neck. Santana struggled, half heartedly attempting to gain the upper hand. Once more, Brittany rammed her against the wall, sinking her teeth into Santana's jugular, wishing to mark her.

The Latin girl let out a sharp hiss that turned into a small, desirous moan as the blond sucked, taking a slow draft. Brittany grinned, as the brunette arched her neck into her mouth and her hands flittered across her body in indecision of purchase.

The addictive tang of her lover's life source caused her skin to tingle and her core to throb, painfully. The heady, intoxicating scent of arousal surrounded her as she slurped and sucked.

She was suddenly over come with the need to claim her.

Pulling back, she swallowed, not caring as the viscous liquid dribbled from the corners of her mouth. Trailing her wet tongue up the caramel neck and along the shell of Santana's ear, she chuckled, darkly,

"Did you like that, you dirty bitch?"

Santana whimpered in reply.

Brittany was almost disappointed that they healed so quickly. She would love to be able to leave the imprint of her fangs, deep, wide puncture wounds, to prove for all to see that Santana was taken.

She scratched her nails down along Santana's ribs, breaking the skin. Taking a dusky nipple in the mouth she nibbled it lightly loving the way is puckered in response to her toungue. Santana arched into her, pushing more of her breast into Brittany's face, keening. The blond sucked on it hard, tugging and nipping on it as Santana thrashed slightly. She let go of it with a pop, admiring how it glistened. Santana whimpered, impatiently at the loss of contact.

"If you want to behave like a harlot, I'll treat you like a harlot!" Brittany husked.

She caught it, it was slight but she felt it, the way Santana's muscles quivered and bunched at her words. If that were how Santana wanted it, it would be how Santana received it, rough and unrelenting.

By the time Brittany had finished with her, she would be imprinted on the Latin girl's very soul and whoever it was that was that thought the could dare touch _her _girl would be a distant memory. She would make sure of it.

X

"Do you want me to leave you like this?" She teased, "Panting and dripping like a whore?"

She began to slowly withdraw her long, slender fingers, enjoying the way Santana clenched her slick, wet walls, greedily sucking them back in, attempting to keep them there.

Brittany smirked as she watched Santana's face break in desperation, barely able to string words together. Leaning down inches from her face, she hissed,

"Is that what you want?"

Santana shook her head.

"Then say it!" She forcefully commanded.

Her slender arms resting around a pale neck, the brunette's forehead fell against the other girl's collar bone. Cruelly withdrawing her fingers a little further and giving them a little flutter, Brittany mocked,

"I don't think the people at the back of the class heard you, San!"

The last bit of defiance leaving her, Santana called out, desperately,

"I'm yours, Brittany! I'm yours!"

Gripping her lightly by the throat so she could drink in the hooded eyes and slightly furrowed brow, Brittany breathed, heavily against plump, moist, parted lips,

"Don't you dare forget it!"

Wrapping a strong arm around the smaller girl, she hoisted her up, before plunging her fingers deeply back inside, hitting that sweet spot. Santana let out a long, guttural moan, wrapping her legs around Brittany's slender waist, gasping,

"Fuck !Brittany!"

The way her name fell from her lover's lips and Santana's affirmations was driving her wild. She wanted Santana to feel her for days. To think about her when they were apart. She drove her into the wall, fucking her with abandon, plunging her fingers in and out, twisting and curling them. She didn't know what was coming over her but she needed to hear it again. She barked, demandingly,

"Say my name bitch!"

"Brittany!" Santana screamed.

It was like music to her ears. She redoubled her efforts, flicking her thumb over her lover's wet nub, as she nipped and sucked at any flesh she could reach, rocking them faster. The smaller girl wrapped herself tightly around her, holding on for dear life. The steady thump against the wall and falling brick dust ignored, Santana moaned loudly into the room,

"Brittany!"

She felt Santana stiffen slightly before she began to convulse, clenching her wet walls round her fingers in a vice like grip. Brittany grunted from the effort but continued to force her fingers through, curling them inside as Santana's hips bucked and she rode them desperately.

Brittany felt liquid heat gush into her hand and trickle down her wrist as the smaller girl fell against her limply. She gently withdrew her fingers, keeping her lover upright, who whimpered at the loss.

Santana's mouth hung open, as if gasping for air. Brittany took in her wild, tousled hair and the way her eyelids drooped, sleepy with slated satisfaction. She lazily sucked her fingers, letting out a groan at the way Santana tasted so sweet upon her lips.

"You taste so good babe."

She leant down, kissing Santana tentatively, allowing the other vampire to taste herself. Brittany wrapped her arms around her waist, drawing dark locks out of her eyes and left light, soft kisses on her swollen lips and face. Santana nuzzled into her.

"Are you ok?" Brittany cooed.

Unable to speak, Santana nodded against her.

She guided Santana under the covers of the bed. Quickly undressing she followed, reaching for her lover and enjoying how Santana automatically moulding into her. Her fingers trailed the apple of her cheek. Tilting her head so she could stare into deep, dark brown eyes, she whispered,

"I'm yours too." She gave her a chaste kiss. Suddenly making her tone serious, she warned, " But you still only have until the end of the week to sort your shit out. Then I'm coming into that pretty little head of yours and I'm taking what I want, how ever I want. Are we clear?"

Her hair still dishevelled and her chest still heaving, Santana conceded, meekly, with a slight nod,

"What ever you want Britt."

There was a sudden creak, then a rumble as the support beam collapsed and a portion of the roof fell into the room causing the two girls to jump. Santana giggled against the crook of her neck,

"Britt, I think we broke the dream house."

"Guess we need a new one."

"No! Leave it. I like it"

She kissed the top of her forehead,

"Go to sleep you goof."

X

**P.s Finally wrote one.**

**How many of you needed a mop and miniature 'Wet Floor' sign? ;p **


	24. Chapter 24

Gaaa! I knew it! We're all such a bunch of pervs! ;p

"_Wet Floor Signs and mops for you all!" _

**Dear Guest who is worried that Britt might breach Santana's trust by using her abilities against her, never fear. It was only a threat in order to force San into getting her arse in gear.**

**Britt wouldn't do that to her beloved Songbird, but shhhhh don't tell Santana that!**

Once more, thanks for all your encouraging reviews and faithfully following. To those of you who are new. "Hello!" *waves*

I hope you all continue to enjoy it, just as much as I do writing it.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckIsInTheHat.**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome, Italy. 1690. 'The Play House'_

X

The Play House was unusually quiet, having closed it's doors in order to prepare for Sebastian's imminent departure and Santana was awash with relief as she shuffled across one of the smaller, outer courtyards.

The evening's sexscapades had taken its toll on her and she ached from head to toe, but it was the good sort of ache.

Being in a dreamscape and a vampire, she had thought Brittany's rough and much enjoyed claiming would not be an issue but with the silver manacles weakening her and slowing her healing process, she now felt everything.

Not that she was complaining, not at all, in fact, she relished every tender muscle and twinge, loving how it reminded her of Brittany and making her that much more determined to escape.

What they had shared had been explosive. Her first orgasm resonated with her but the second, or maybe the third, she could not quite remember, had been earth shattering. Brittany had laboriously taunted her, skilfully holding her on a precipice until Santana could not take it anymore and had willingly surrendered to her lover's demands, seeing colourful stars and every part of her body turning to mush.

Sure, she had, had minor experiences, namely fooling around with Hudson, his novice hands fumbling over her skin, but she had never felt anything and she most certainly had not allowed him to do 'the deed'.

Even messing around with Lylah had paled in comparison to her ethereal exploits.

If last night was anything to go by, she could not wait to do it for real. Brittany would be her first and she would do everything in her power to make damn sure Brittany would also be her last.

The memories of the blond forcefully rendering her helpless as she gladly gave in, screaming she belonged to Brittany, flashed across her mind. Her knees buckled slightly and her core pulsated. Reaching out for the terracotta wall, she steadied herself. A silken voice called out, teasing,

"You wanton hussy!"

Santana looked up. Lylah sauntered across the square with a cheeky smirk plastered across her face,

"You can smell it from here. Thinking of me, I hope?"

Loath as she was to have Lylah believe she was the reason for her lusty predicament Santana knew she must do what she had to and play along. She teased back,

"Of course and on that note, you owe me a new coffin!"

Lylah's smirk turned into a hearty laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling,

"And pray tell, why do I owe you a new coffin?"

Hiding the wince the action caused, Santana wrapped her arms around the russet haired girl's neck. She noticed how every time the silver manacles brushed lightly against pale skin, causing it to scorch slightly then immediately heal when she drew them away, the vampire shuddered in pleasure. She feigned bashfulness

"Because I got horny in the day thinking about all the things I want to do to someone and I may have gotten a little over zealous with certain activities."

Lylah gripped her hips, firmly,

"Oh I see."

Pretending the hands grasping her hips were not digging into inflamed flesh, she pressed her body flush against Lylah's, slipping her thigh in between her legs and applying pressure to the other girl's centre. Playfully nipping at her thin lips, Santana kept her tone alluring,

"I can't stop thinking about it!"

Tugging her hips into her and grinding herself down on Santana's strong leg, Lylah growled,

"I can't wait for him to leave."

Santana nibbled and sucked on the shell of her ear, hoping the other vampire would loosen her painful grip, whispering seductively,

"Neither can I but all this waiting will be worth it!"

Lylah firmly pushed Santana away from her, grunting,

"Go on, before I take you in the middle of the square for anyone to see."

The brunette, hummed, wickedly,

"I'd like that!"

Lylah licked her lips,

"Seriously Santana, go! I'll send one of the dogs down with a new one. You'll have to wait for it in case the stupid mutt puts it in the wrong cell." Still working her pale fingers through the fabric of Santana's dress, she added, "Maybe when he gets back I can ask him to give you a proper room."

Santana pressed a chaste kiss to her pale cheek,

"Thankyou."

Turning, the brunette began walk away, swaying her hips and counting to herself,

'One. Two. Three.'

Mustering her strength, she ran back to the red head mashing their lips together. She sucked on the stunned girl's tongue. Pulling back, she took in Lylah's pupils blown black and wide with lust.

"Sorry," She giggled, "I couldn't help myself."

Once more, she turned to leave.

"You're such a fucking tease!" Lylah growled after her.

Throwing the other vampire a wink over her shoulder, she replied,

"You know you love it really."

X

She gingerly lowered herself down each step of the winding stone staircase not wishing to jolt her sore muscles. She hugged the wall and on occasion used it for support. She chuckled to herself, thinking

'Jesus Britt. I think you broke me.'

Thank god the next time anything like this happened she would be rid of the pesky manacles and have her full faculties.

Making it to the bottom of the stairs, she alighted across the paving stones. The passageway of The Pits was deserted and illuminated with flaming torches that dipped and guttered slightly in the breeze.

It was quite save for the odd muffled, painful groan and the clink of a chain or manacle moving against masonry. She couldn't wait to be gone from this place and leave behind all the suffering it symbolised.

Coming to rest against Lucinda's door, she whispered through the tiny, barred, opening,

"Hey, Lucy la floozy."

She heard a clipped reply from the darkness,

"You are one to be talking."

Peeking through the small window into the gloom, she spied a delicate blond approaching. She looked about Santana's height but she could not be sure. Having only seen the forehead and eyes of her friend, she was taken aback with just how pretty she was. Even with dirt smeared across her doll like face and her matted blond hair, any one could see, that underneath, this petite girl was an oil painting.

Something about her features that Santana could not quite place, seemed familiar,

"You look like shit, Fabray!"

Lucinda snapped, peevishly,

"Well not everyone gets preferential treatment."

Santana tore a strip of fabric from her skirt and began to fish for one of the pins hidden away in her layers, asking,

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." The blond snarled, her hazel eyes simmering from within the dark, "Oh and by the way, do you think it would be possible to not be so selfish and take into consideration that there are other people trapped down here. You woke me up today!"

Freeing one of the pins from her skirt, Santana replied, indignantly,

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!" Lucinda retorted, "The noises coming from you cell, were," She paused, "unnatural!"

Santana ducked her head in embarrassment hiding from the accusing glare, her fingers fumbling with the tiny strip of material as she attempted to tie it round the long pin. She had not put any thought into whether anyone could hear her, essentially, intense sex dream. Internally thanking the fact she couldn't blush, she muttered.

"Shut up!"

Finally managing to get the stupid scrap of fabric to knot, she held the pin between her two fingers, passing it through the small window into Lucinda's cell.

Taking it, the blond looked between the pin and back at Santana in dubious confusion,

"What is this?"

"It's a hairpin." Santana replied, proudly.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do with this? As you can see I am not currently in any position to give any care as to my appearance!"

Santana rolled her eyes in exasperation. Did she really have to explain? For an uppity vampire who thought she knew everything, Lucinda really was being slow.

"It's so you can pick the locks on your manacles, you dope."

Lucinda slapped her fore head with her palm, announcing sarcastically,

"How silly of me! When somebody hands you a hair pin that's the first thought that should have popped into my head." She caught Santana's dark scowl, "Unlike some people I am not used to criminal activity."

She told herself the only reason why she was helping Lucinda was that by working together they would double their chances of escape. If it all went, south and only one of them made it out then at least they would be able to return with reinforcements and free the other. It had nothing to do at all with the fact, no matter how much the stuck up blond got under her skin, Santana didn't have the heart to leave her behind, afraid of what Sebastian might do in the aftermath.

However, it didn't mean Santana didn't think she was as an insufferable bitch. Pushing her face against the bars the Latin girl sniped,

"Do you want to get out of here or not?"

Lucinda glared, replying haughtily.

"Of course!"

The brunette smugly retorted,

"Well in that case, I suggest you learn and fast, you judgemental cow!"

The heavy iron latch on the door at the top of the stairs clanged and heavy footsteps came thundering down the steps. Santana pulled herself back, leaning against the wall slapping a look of sheer boredom on her face. She nonchalantly inspected her nails as the black Versipellis, Santana had come to think of as Jailer, lumbered past, ignoring her.

Going to the far end of the passageway, he took a bunch of keys from round his neck. Unlocking the door, he reached in dragging out a dirty man with bedraggled hair in barely any clothing and babbling to himself incoherently.

Jailer flung the unresisting victim over his shoulder, relocking the gate and wrapping the keys back round his neck with a jangle. Whistling a happy tune to himself that seemed so out of place, he ambled along taking no notice as the two girls watched him, cautiously.

Santana caught a glimpse of the victim's unseeing bloodshot eyes, his mind no longer inhabiting this earth and she prayed that his death would be quick and painless. Since she had learned what happened to all the bodies of the thralls once they had been used up for every resource they could provide, she had begun to resent the Hounds.

She would make sure that those she got her hands on would suffer, until then the only thing she could do was mock them and she did any chance she got. She could not help herself,

"Hey Fido, tell those mongrels to hurry up, I haven't got all day."

He snarled gutturally yet continued on his path back up the steps. Hearing the clang of the latch, she patiently counted to ten before returning to Lucinda's window. She murmured, quietly,

"We have to get out of here Luce!"

Santana poked her fingers through the bars, crooking them to beckon her friend forward. Lucinda clasped them as much as she could, replying mournfully,

"I know, but how?"

She could not get over how rough and broken the delicate blond's skin felt. She herself was tiny but she could barely feel any flesh on her friend's fingers at all.

She was suddenly reminded of an old fairy tale about a boy and a girl caught by an evil witch wishing to fatten them up in order to eat them; they had stuck bones through the bars in order to trick her so they could escape.

"Sebastian and his cronies are leaving for a number of days, leaving behind a skeleton staff."

"When?"

Santana did not wish to offer false hope but it could very well be the only opportunity they would ever get. If they did not make an attempt and stayed here, her companion would surely die.

"Tomorrow evening."

Lucinda queried, softly, rubbing the Latin girl's knuckles,

"You have this on good authority?"

Santana smirked mischievously at the blond,

"Let's say, I have gotten close to someone of late. The information is solid."

"Would this be the Brittany you were finger banging yourself to all afternoon?"

Santana mouth gaped open in shock, letting go of Lucinda's fingers. In an attempt to hide her embarrassment for a second time that evening, she gripped, irritably,

"Do you know something? For a lady you really do have a filthy mouth!"

Lucinda laughed aloud,

"You totally were!" Seeing Santana's thunderous expression, she attempted to be serious, managing to choke out, " Err hmm, Sorry, when do we do this?"

The brunette sniffed, self consciously drawing a strand of hair that had stuck to her bottom lip, faking a level of coolness,

"As I was saying, three evenings from tonight. We cannot make a move on the first night because everyone will be expecting it. So we do it the second."

Sucking in her lips to hold back her guffaws, Lucinda squeaked,

"Hhmm mmm."

"I'll give you the signal, until then I suggest you practice." Seeing Lucinda's eyes glistening with mirth, she scoffed, "Fuck you, I'm going to find my coffin!"

Stalking off, she was followed by the echoes of the blond wailing with laughter.

God! Lucinda Fabray really was an insufferable bitch!

X

**PS Looks like our ladies are picking up momentum…. Quinttana how it ought to be, non of this banging in hotel rooms like common streetwalkers business! **

**Psffttt.. **

**Now I enjoy a Quinntana fic as much much as the next person… But not in the show! **

**Sorry if im upsetting any Quintanna shippers**

**Its as if they are making out that Lezzers cant help but sleep with their friends and every privileged white girl experiments in college.. Gaaa! **


	25. Chapter 25

Calm down guys and dolls. You're all freaking the bean over Santana snogging Lylah. She cant suddenly run cold on the girl. San needs to keep Lylah sweet, well, at least until Sebastian leaves..

She's Britt's girl, through and through!

Thanks for your reviews.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

X

VAMP VERSE

X

_Somewhere in Europe. 1690. _

X

The fur trapper, Puck had spoken of, had been at deaths door when they came upon him. His body ravaged by infection from his gangrenous leg, he had welcomed slipping into a painless and eternal slumber.

Having fed from a human, the two vampires had gained some sense of normality and the Pack's hostility had waned slightly, even going so far as to ask them to extend their stay by a few more days. However, some members remained, understandably, cautious.

Once over his initial shock and after much reassurance by Orin and Charlotte, that his reaction had been very normal and did not mean he was a fiend, Vargo had overcome his nerves enough to venture out.

As it happened, in his past life he had been a travelling magician, hence his ability and under the watchful eye of wary parents and intrigued Elders, the changelings took to him immediately, as he wowed them with a few simple tricks.

By the time the vampires had decided it was time for them to return to their own homes, Charlotte was sure of the Pack's innocence and promised to notify The Council as such. The Wolves made assurances they would not venture into the outlying towns or villages, unless to conduct business, as long as the town's people extended them the same courtesy where the forest was concerned.

Puck, Loren and Charn had eagerly volunteered to escort them back through the Sumava and when they departed, making promises to return in the near future with thralls in tow, it was to the waves and calls of Goodbye from Bieste, a majority of the Elders and children.

They had taken a different route through the weald, avoiding the House of Methuselah and the horrors that occurred there, and they had parted from each others company on the outskirts of the wildwood.

Charlotte no longer thought of the Bohmerwald pack as enemies to be regarded with suspicion but rather as potential future allies and caring friends.

She had met with the worried town council, repeating the words of Bieste, that they had nothing to fear from the pack that inhabited the woods and on the new moon they must prepare for Emissaries to discuss the terms of boundaries and protection.

In all, Charlotte had felt that great headway had been made and was satisfied that all would be well.

She had wanted to return home as soon as possible to get back to her beloved Dam and adorable offspring but had decided to take a small detour, which would only add another week to her journey.

It would be a small price to pay if it turned out to as fruitful as she hoped.

X

There was one, her kind referred to as 'The Informer', many refusing to utter his real name from their lips in case it tainted them. Any vampire worth their salt knew of his existence and they knew how he came by the currency he touted.

Many would travel miles out of their way and in great peril in order to gain their own information and avoid dealing with him.

He was obsequious and childishly spiteful not to mention his delusions of grandeur at his importance to The Council, though he swore no loyalty to anyone but himself and his own goals. To go to him was to take a risk as sometimes he peevishly sold false, taking a twisted pleasure at his perceived manipulation. In addition, there was the issue of his preferred method of payment.

It turned the stomach.

You only ever came to him if you had no other option and you were desperate. Hence, the reason why she was standing ankle deep in excrement that was beginning to seep into the deerskin of her boots with a wooden box under her arm whose occupants squealed in fury.

Convinced that members of the Houses were out to get him for selling their secrets, Calan was always a little too paranoid for his own good but this time he was more rattled than usual. The number of Versipellis that skulked in the shadows had doubled since she had seen him last.

She had been man handled, well paw handled, her belongings inspected and now he was asking his Hounds to sniff the contents of the box for Moon Dust and Priests Bane. If she wanted rid of him, all she had to do was get past his guard dogs and shove a stake in his heart, he wasn't worth the elaborateness of poisoning.

Yanking her ankle out of the quagmire as it threatened to suck it back in she sighed,

"Calan, I assure you they are not tainted!"

The abhorrent vampire chortled,

"You can never be too careful my dear. Even though I have great relations with House Dubois, these are dubious times we live in!"

Lifting open the lid of the box a sliver, his eyes shone. As the creatures attempted to escape he slammed it shut.

"Yes, they will do nicely."

He turned to shuffle back to his wide, gaudy 'throne', swinging the whole of his left side as he moved as he suffered from the deformity of a wizened leg, which no amount of vampire blood or werewolf bites could cure.

Usually vampires were lured by beauty, talent or the unique so it was anyones guess as to why someone had rebirthed Calan. The only conclusion Charlotte could draw was that it had been some sort of cruel joke.

With a grand sweep of his hand, he gestured,

"Please, sit."

She tugged her foot out of the shit with a glooping sound.

The place stank to high heaven, built into the foundations between the market and the abattoir, he had fashioned himself a hall, containing a long table and over stuffed chairs covered in mildew. The city's waste, not to mention the stale blood from the slaughterhouse and excrement flowed through the tunnel she had just stepped out of and the roof overhead dripped with god only knows what.

All Charlotte could think was when she got out of here she was going to burn her clothes and scrub her skin with Priests Bane.

It was the only way she could think of how to get clean. Instead she lowered herself gingerly into the seat provided, sitting up right on the edge to touch as little as possible.

He reached into a basket beside him, pulling out a squirming rat by the scruff of the neck. It screamed and gnashed, whipping its long scaly tail back and forth, it's paws like human hands, clawing

"Would you like a drink?"

Her stomach lurched,.

"No thank you. I already ate. Had a nice delivery boy on the way."

Gripping the rodent by the front paws and it's nuque, he nicked it's jugular. Holding it over a cup, he squeezed and twisted the body; the snap of its bones reached her ears. He then had the audacity to shake it, as if its life source was an exotic beverage from the orient.

"Do you not find all that chasing your dinner business tiresome?"

He tossed the lifeless corpse into a nearby basket. Charlotte tried not to show her disgust, she got the impression that it was all an elaborate show and that he much preferred drinking straight from the source.

"May I get straight to the point, I was wondering if you had any information as to the whereabouts of my sister?"

He took along draft from his cup. Closing his bulbous eyes, he swallowed. A slight smile twisted the corners of stained lips, a look of bliss settling upon his features. He let out a long satisfied sigh. It was pathetic really, how he imagined himself a gentleman and a connoisseur.

His eyes opened a sliver as he began to stroke the rim of the faux gold goblet, fixing her with light brown eyes. For an instant, his face took on the look of the creatures he fed from. In that moment, it seemed to the blond the saying, 'You are what you eat' was never truer.

"Funny how your elitist Houses look down their noses at every body else, yet as soon as one of them flounders, they can't help but send someone to grovel at my door for my assistance."

Charlotte shifted impatiently, hoping he would finish soon.

It was always the same with him, the bitter comments and the droll conversation he mistook for witty banter. The only redeeming quality of the whole ordeal was that he liked to brag and if you could sift through the bullshit, like the Versepellis off to her left was currently doing, you could actually glean some handy hints as to the political climate.

She kept her tone sweet,

"The Houses do not send me. I come of my own worry for Lucinda. Not only is she my house sister but she is also my real life sibling.

He smiled broadly showing his twisted brown fangs,

"Ah the two beautiful Fabray sisters. Being most makers have, ahem, relations with their newborns," His eyes watched her keenly, "I always wondered, did you ever get jealous?"

He attempted to mask it, wrapping the question in an air of genuine curiosity, when it blatantly held a loaded double meaning. She knew what the dirty little pervert really wanted to ask was did they share or throw all decorum out of the window. There wasn't a hope in hell she was giving him a mental visual. Keeping her temper in check, she replied, steadily,

"A lady should never speak of such things, but if you must know, I wasn't around when Lucinda was reborn."

His face briefly flickered with disappointment.

"My sources have not spied her, I'm afraid," Catching her look of dismay at his words, he continued, " However because you always pay so handsomely and to see you come to ruin would not be in my best interests, I shall part some advice.. The time of The Council ruling these lands is ending,"

Even in her melancholy at hearing there was no news of her sister, his last sentence chilled her. She stiffened, asking cautiously,

"What on earth do you mean?"

He went back to show boating, relaxing back in his 'throne', gloating, as if he was the only one who knew the secret to a great treasure,

"I know of Methuselah and the demise of the Mystics. There is a new game afoot, with powerful new players hence the precautions you see around you."

It was a well known fact that Calan's beloved rodents came from far and wide, travelling great distances. He even claimed he could glean news as far as the Orient but as with many things he said, they had to be taken with a pinch of salt. She attempted to coax him, hoping he would be in a sharing mood,

"Are you saying you may know who is behind this?"

He picked at the paste jewels that adored the goblet, glancing at her slyly,

"I have my suspicions.".

"You have a duty to tell The Council!"

Enraged he slammed the goblet down on the table, his eyes bulged out further and his face turned beet red as he screeched,

"The Council! The same Council that demand we abide by their archaic rules that benefit only themselves." The vein in the middle of his forehead pulsed as he worked himself into a frenzy. "We are not the only ones Charlotte. I have seen the New World. It is vast. The Packs and Spirit Walkers that rule there make your kind look weak and pathetic in comparison. How do you think your precious Houses will survive then?"

If Calan was, correct and there were more phenomenal beings out there, it would only be a matter of time before all vampires would have to band together. An uprising or any sort of discord would only weaken them further. Leaping from her seat, she cried,

"Calan! This is bigger than you and your petty vendettas. You know as well as I do if the balance is upset, it will plunge this land back into bloodshed. We cannot afford a repeat of the Dark Ages! There are innocent people's lives at stake!"

"Why should we skulk around them, afraid they shall become aware of our existence? Once over we were revered as Gods!"

She could not believe her ears. The last time someone had spoken similar words it had cost them dearly.

Whipping round to face him as he sat smugly in his chair, she screamed,

"We are nothing with out them!"

She was hit with a wave of fatigue and the overwhelming need to see her Dam. Turning on her heel, she took off, speeding down the tunnel, not caring as to the spray of shit she was covering herself in.

He shouted after her,

"I suggest you choose wisely as to the side you pick Charlotte of House Dubois. It would be a shame to see you come to a tragic end!."

X

**Ps gaaaa Quintana… Friends ! Friends I tell you! **

**Btw even though I hate the holiday as it's the only day that manages to make me feel like an undesirable failure. **

**Ie Phone calls from female family members asking what are u doing with ur life, why don't u have some one, what are u doing wrong, *sigh* im never getting any grand kids, maybe u should try a fella.. **

**(the other 364 days of the years im a ray of sunshine, except Christmas but at least I get to dress up as the Grinch for that) **

**I understand that some of u aren't as grouchy as I am so**

**Happy weapon brandishing, diaper wearing, winged infant of doom Day! **


	26. Chapter 26

I heard a lot of Ya'll got a little hot under the collar and there was a spike in cases of exploding ovaries being admitted to ER's all over the Globe due to the steaminess of Quintana !

Perverts! ;p

Once again thanks for your reviews and thank you faithfully following

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat**

Ladies and gentlefolk, the one you have been waiting for.

(_Drum roll please!)_

_x_

VAMP VERSE

X

_Rome, Italy. 1690. The 'Play House'._

X

The mood in the Play House was one of joviality and was much more relaxed in Sebastian's absence. His departure had gone smoothly and everyone had benefited. Lylah had given the whore thralls the night off, turning away their customers who were usually more troublesome rebel rousers and only allowing in a select few regulars whose vices leant more towards drinking and gambling.

Standing in the middle of the main courtyard for all to see, Santana would be lying if she said she was not apprehensive as Lylah began to unlock the manacles at her ankles. She laid a light hand on the red head's shoulder as she lifted her left leg making it easier to remove the offending piece of 'jewellery'.

Tossing them aside, Lylah gave her a secret smile and her eyes shone with mischief as she trailed her fingers down along a caramel forearm before uncuffing her wrists.

Santana suspected she was intoxicated. She had not exactly figured out the when or the how of her plan but this new development could only help facilitate what she wished to accomplish.

Rubbing the ache in her wrists, she flexed them back and forth to rid herself of the stiffness. She felt a twinge of guilty when the red head handed her a jug of rich blood, murmuring almost affectionately,

"It will help you heal."

Santana drank greedily, aware that Lylah watched her through hooded, hungry eyes. At the feeling of the liquid coating her throat, she added a sensual, satisfied hum for the other vampire's enjoyment.

"Thanks."

As the sanguine fluid seeped into her system, she could feel the surge of vigour coursing through her and the strength returning to her muscles and bones. The tension she had become accustomed to lifted as she rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck.

She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be so powerful.

Her skin began to knit together, the ugly charred black turning red then pink and finally back to her usual flawless tan. It took a couple of moments for her vision and hearing to adjust, the sudden onslaught of brightness and sounds taking her by surprise.

Lylah touched her gently at the waist to steady her, holding out another jug. Once more, the brunette took a long draft. It tasted of berries and alcohol, something with which Santana was very familiar

"You might want to go steady on that," the other girl warned, "It's Taint."

So that answered her question, her mark _was_ intoxicated.

She smacked her lips, taking another drink, she needed all the Dutch courage she could get,

"I know." She purred, arching an eyebrow impishly, hiding her nervousness, "I thought this was meant to be a party and we are going to have some fun?"

Picking up another full jug, Lylah offered out a pale hand,

"Come on, there's something I want to show you."

Quickly wrapping her manacles up in her long skirt, Santana entwined their fingers, following the girl across the wide courtyard, under the archway into a smaller secluded one that housed the 'pleasure rooms'.

It was quiet save for a few thrall whores who sat on the lip of the fountain, running their fingers through the lazily bubbling waters. Being freshly enslaved they showed that they still possessed some semblance of humanity by attempting to enjoy the little things in life.

Approaching a door that was darker and more ornate than the others, Lylah removed a bunch of keys at her waist. Santana dropped the cuffs with a clang as the girl handed her the jug and began to search through the many keys on the ring.

Pulling faces at the different shapes, she finally found the one she was looking for. Placing it in the heavy iron padlock, she turned it, giving it a shake when it stuck. The lock sprang open and she gave Santana a grin of triumph.

Retrieving a flaming torch from the holder in the wall, she beckoned the Latin girl to follow. Entering, the red head began lighting the other torches, casting an eerie light into the room.

Santana opened her eyes wide in shock, it looked like how she imagined a torture chamber.

The room was large and long, which was perfectly normal, it even had an ornate bed in one corner, but it looked out of place nestled amongst the strange contraptions that shared the space.

"What is this place?"

She cast her eyes around the room taking in the wide strips of dark cloths neatly laid out on the table and the numerous leather paddles and whips that hung from the walls.

Lylah giggled at her expression,

"It's The Dungeon."

"I can see that, but what is it for?"

The russest haired girl teased her, as if it was obvious.

"It's a pleasure room silly."

Hesitantly, Santana stroked the surface of a nearby wooden table,

"All this? For sex?" She queried in surprise. Taking a sip from the jug she continued in a joking tone, "My mother taught me about the birds and bees but I don't ever remember her mentioning this."

Lylah laughed, taking the jug from Santana's unresisting hand,

"It's for those that have an acquired taste."

Santana grinned at her wickedly, teasing,

"Namely you."

Lylah smirked to herself, tipping her head coquettishly,

"Amongst others."

It was blatantly obvious why the red head had brought her here. She asked inquisitively,

"And you like this?"

Sitting on the bed, Lylah shrugged in reply,

"It keeps things fresh and fun!"

Turning her back on the pale vampire, Santana mouthed to herself,

"Wow!"

An ominous X shaped wooden contraption on wheels, set further back in the room, piqued her interest. She stepped towards it. She smelled the hint of blood and noticed the dark brown stains ingrained in the timber.

She began inspecting it.

It loomed over her. The strong sleepers that made up the top part of the X were dotted with large pairs of holes. From one pair hung a silver manacle, wrapped in leather, open like the jaws of a snapping dog. The bottom legs of the X were the same except each one had a horizontal piece of wood that was also adjustable.

Standing up against it, the inverted apex of the X came to the crest of her breastbone. It leant back at a slight incline. Curious, she asked,

"What is it?"

"It has many uses " Lylah began, "But mainly, its Senor Medici's favourite toy." Moving across the room, she offered, "You stand on it like this."

Santana stepped to one side allowing Lylah to manoeuvre. She hopped up as if it was second nature, setting her feet on the wooden blocks.

The distance between the two sleepers was enough to splay her legs, just wide enough that it would not be too uncomfortable. Raising her arms to the top planks, she lay back against the wooden structure, positioning herself in the centre as she explained,

"You can go on your front or your back. Everything is adjustable for height or stretch. It even tips back so someone can fuck you at a better angle."

Santana could see where the cuffs would lock someone in place by their ankles and their wrists. With the silver inlaid in the manacles, it would render a vampire, or anyone else for that matter, completely helpless.

She was flushed with hint of shame as she rippled with arousal at the thought of Brittany strapping her up and having her wicked way with her.

'God, she was such a bottom.'

"That's kinda hot!" She admitted.

Lylah giggled, grabbing her by the fabric of her scanty top, pulling her in for a sloppy kiss.

The perfect opportunity had presented itself. For a moment she balked wondering if she could go through with it but then she thought of Lucinda, Brittany, and exactly she how much she had riding on her shoulders.

Santana could taste the sour hint of alcohol on the other girl's breath. Pulling back from the kiss, she seductively husked against Lylah's lips,

"I want to try it!"

The alabaster vampire eyed her lustily,

"You dirty bitch!"

The taller girl went to step down from the structure. Santana stopped her with a firm finger on her chest,

"No," She reproached, seductively, "Because you've been so patient I think it's only fair that you go first."

Pinning Lylah beneath her, she tugged on her wrist, forcefully slamming it against the wood and clipping the manacle in place. As she quickly secured Lylah's other extremities, she left harsh nips and bites upon pale flesh making sure not to break the skin, Brittany would forgive her some things but she doubted Brittany would forgive her that. Lylah gasped and hissed.

She ripped and tore the material of Lylah's garments, discarding them on the floor as she stepped back to admire her handy work. The other girl was naked and trussed up like a Christmas turkey, watching her with aroused bright green eyes. She couldn't help notice the pale vampire had a great body. She had waif like hips, a flat stomach, average sized but perky breasts, but it definitely wasn't on par with Brittany's.

Santana ignored Lylah's whimpers of frustration, she turned, retrieving a whip and giving herself time to think.

'Its time to bring your A game Lopez.'

Whirling round she scraped her nails down a pale torso, whispering alluringly,

"We're going to play a game and its going to be by my rules. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Lylah called out.

"I didn't say you could speak! In fact I want no noise at all!" She barked, flicking the whip lightly against Lylah's exposed centre. She smelt the sudden burst of arousal that engulfed the room as the red head moaned.

"Tut! Tut!" She mocked, "It's seems you can't follow simple instructions. " She picked up two of the thick, dark strips of cloth. "So because you can't keep yourself quiet, its looks like I shall have to shut you up myself!"

Picking up the jug, Santana raised it to Lylah's lips, allowing her to drink a little drop before balling up one of the cloths and gently stuffing it in the red head's unresisting mouth. She gave her a quick peck on the lips before taking the other, wrapping it over the other girl's lips and tying round the back of Lylah's head.

Unable to believe how far she was getting, Santana tried to calm herself taking a huge gulp from the jug whilst lightly trailing the tip of the whip up along the insides of pale thighs, occasionally teasing her centre, Lylah's moans of appreciation muffled by the makeshift gag.

Now came the moment of truth. If she could get away with this, she would be home free and able to move onto the actual plan.

"Lets make it a little more interesting shall we?"

Taking another dark strip, Santana lifted it to Lylah's eyes looking for any indication as to her cohort's refusal. Finding none, she held back the ripple of excitement, tying it securely over the other girl's eyes.

Trailing her tongue over milky skin and teasingly scrapping her fingernails over the dip of Lylah's hips, she steeled herself for the next part. Stuffing strips of the cloth down her top, she tiptoed across the room, slapping the whip against the table and walls in order to fake her preparing for the next part. Popping her head out of the door, she beckoned over one of the whore thralls, who dutifully obeyed.

Handing the thrall the whip, Santana whispered in its ear. She took a moment to watch how the thrall followed her instructions, kissing and teasing the prone form of the alabaster vampire, smirking to herself. Hopefully, this would be the last memory she would have of the girl who bucked in delight as the thrall entered her slowly.

Closing the door behind her, she clicked the padlock shut. Slipping the strips of cloth through the cuffs she gave them an experimental swing.

Yes. They would do nicely.

Taking one last glance round the courtyard and finding nothing to fear, she bolted in the direction of The Pits

X

Bracing herself against the cool wall of the staircase that led down to The Pits, she took a deep breath. Once she committed herself to phase two of the plan there would be no turning back.

It was all or nothing.

Holding one of the wrapped manacles in one hand whilst another hung from a strip of cloth in the other, she began her descent. Coming down into the passageway, she spotted Jailer. Throwing a prayer to Lady Luck, she mustered her courage.

She let out a piercing whistle.

Jailer turned snarling, transforming into the mangy, slobbering beast he was. His jaws gnashed as he lunged for Santana. She threw the silver manacle in the air. The Versipellis eyes followed it before bunching his muscles and leaping to catch it. Clamping his jaws round the object, he almost wagged his tail.

Santana would have thought the expression on his face almost comical if she could have taken the moment to appreciate it. Instead, she swung the heavy manacle over arm, cracking it over his snout.

He staggered, unable to make sense of the onslaught of sensations. His paws scrabbled at his face attempting to rid himself of the burning ball of silver in his mouth but his shattered nose and lack of opposable thumbs made it impossible. He whined and thrashed to and fro as the flesh of his tongue bubbled to molten liquid, dripping in thick globs upon the paving stones.

Santana reached down, snatching the keys from round his neck before kicking him through the doorway into her own cell. She slammed the door, locking it on the decrepit creature, leaving him to his misery and much deserved, slow and painful death.

Moving down the passageway she attempted to unlock the gate to 'The Cattle's' cell. The occupants shrank back into the recesses in fear of her. Finding the right key, she swung open the gate, yelling,

"Come on Fabray! Its time to go!"

There came an almighty boom. Santana to ducked on instinct as Lucinda's door suddenly turned into flying missiles of wooden debris, filling the passageway.

The humans watched Santana warily. Motioning with her hand, she shouted,

"Don't just stand there, if you want out of here then move it!"

She then moved onto the next one, unlocking it.

At least forty men and women of all ages filed past her as she wrenched a flaming torch from the wall. The men and women suddenly stopped, blocking the hallway. Santana rolled her eyes, cursing sheep,

There was a shriek and a flash of blond disappearing. Crimson sprayed the walls as Santana elbowed her way through the terrified people.

Lucinda looked up with wild crazy eyes, her pupils black and glassy, from the limp body in her arms, its neck torn wide open. Her doll like face smeared in blood, she grinned at her companion. For a moment, she looked like a deranged escapee from the sanatorium.

"Jesus Fucking Christ Fabray!" Santana cursed in shock.

Discarding the body upon the jail house floor as if it was an everyday copy of an already used newspaper, the petite blond stated matter a factly as she attempted to fix her appearance,

"He wouldn't have made it out anyway!"

"Still!" Santana exclaimed.

Santana continued to wrench all the torches from the walls, passing them to the captives she thought was the strongest. Lucinda eyed her curiously,

"What on earth are you doing, now is not the time to grow a conscious. "

Tossing one into Lucinda's coffin, Santana growled out of the side of her mouth

"It's a distraction, the bigger the crowd the bigger the chance of surviving." She turned to the prisoners, raising her voice over the snarls and the ruckus caused by the rabid Wolf thrashing in the cell. "Right! Once we are out in the main courtyard you can do whatever the fuck you like just get out of our way. Until then stay quiet and follow us. Got it?"

There came rumbles of agreement.

Lucinda began picking up long slivers of the broken door, sliding them into her skirts and handing some to the captives. Santana stared at her,

"What? Have you never heard the saying 'Don't forget to bring a stake to a vamp fight'?"

Shaking her head, Santana turned, fleeing up the stone steps with Lucinda and the captives hot on her heels.

X

Creeping cautiously, they managed to make it through the hallways and smaller courtyards undetected. The thralls they passed paid them no mind. Coming under a small archway, Lucinda scouted round the corner. Waving for Santana and the prisoners to stay where they were, she cajoled Santana before she disappeared,

"Newborn, watch how the pro's do it!"

The sounds of a scuffle could be heard and she returned with a smug grin, twirling the stake in her hand and performing a little dance, wisps of ash falling out of hair.

"Hell yeah. I still got it!"

Santana could not help but snicker despite the gravity of the situation. Ignoring her friend's antics, she addressed the captives,

"That's the main yard people! It's every man for themselves now."

As the prisoners surged past, a mass of unwashed bodies laced with fear and adrenaline, a brawny youngster brandishing one of the crude stakes and a torch stepped forward,

"I guess we owe you a thanks She Demon. But if I ever see you or the Princess after this I wont hesitate to try to kill you."

Santana shrugged at him, non commitally.

"Fair enough."

He took off after the others letting out a blood-curdling scream as he entered the square, wielding his makeshift weapons.

She turned to Lucinda full of pride, swinging her manacles in a series of faux combat moves,

"See that, I'm so bad ass he called me a She Demon and you're a prissy Princess.!"

Lucinda scowled darkly, sulkily sniffing,

"That's not fair, no one has even seen you kill anyone yet."

X

Once they followed the prisoners out into the courtyard, it had turned into utter chaos. It was as if all the rage and pent up aggression felt by the prisoners was unleashed all at once. A number of people had piled on a vampire stabbing him repeatedly whilst he flailed.

The trays of flames had been pushed over, setting fire to the flammable furniture and the many hangings on the walls. The acrid stench of burning flesh hung heavy in the air as thralls thrashed, screaming, the skin melting from their bones

Patrons and prisoners, Santana could not tell the difference, shrieked in agony, as they were torn limb from limb by the savage jaws of the slobbering wolves. Others fought back beating the creatures into a bloody pulp with weapons made of anything they could find.

Entails of all species lay strewn on the ground and the cobbles stones ran red with blood.

It was utter carnage.

The humans were losing though. There was way more Versipellis than she had anticipated. If they did not make a break for it now they would be over powered and their opportunity lost.

Fervently hoping no one would notice them skulking along the back wall, concealed in the shadow of the veranda above, Santana dragged Lucinda by the collar. Taking a sharp left into the preparation room next to bathhouse, she hurriedly bolted the door, letting out a sigh of relief.

So far, so good.

Lucinda allowed the flame of the torch to dance over every surface before leaving it in a pile of drying sheets.

Wrenching open a hatch in the floor that led to the sewers, Santana motioned for Lucinda to follow before lowering herself into the dank murk of the subterranean passageways.

X

They paid no attention as they splashed barefoot through the excrement of city. Every sense stretched to its limit, every flicker of a shadow an imagined enemy, twitching in fear of discovery, they imagined every sound they made, magnified giving away their position.

They knew they were being hunted, the bays of the Wolves and calls of the Vampires reaching their hypersensitive ears told them so. Santana followed Lucinda's lead, twisting this way and that, sometimes stopping all together and retracing their steps

Once more Lucinda stopped abruptly causing Santana to careen into the back of her. The blond peered thoughtfully into the dark. In mounting frustration at their lack of progress, Santana snapped.

"What the hell Luce? I don't care where we come out, just as long as we do!"

With her hands on her hips and her head bowed, the petite blond whispered, defeatedly,

"We can't go any further Tana!"

The Latin girl's nerves were shot and she didn't know how much more she could take. She demanded,

"What? We have to! We can't go back!"

By now, she was sure that Lylah would have been discovered, looking for revenge and Santana wanted to create as much distance as inhumanly possible between herself and the irate red head and quite rightly so.

Roughly catching Santana by the top, Lucinda yanked her into a narrower passageway, pushing her back against the moist, dripping wall. The china doll crept to the edge and peered round the corner.

"Luce?" Santana began.

Lucinda raised her finger to her lips.

The tanned vampire could hear rapid footsteps approaching. Lucinda reached out, catching a man by his shirt and the crotch of his breeches, stepping out further into the wider sewer. Santana followed her and watched as her friend flung the Vampire down the tunnel as if he was as light a pillow.

The vampire pin wheeled upside down in mid air, slamming into an invisible force field. It popped and fizzled and for a split second, she could make out his insides and every bone in his body before he collapsed in the sewerage, turning to dust. The bright light blinded her for an instant, leaving spots of colour in her eyes.

"What the hell was that?"

"Mystics!" Lucinda muttered, darkly, "He's a wily bastard; he's made it so our kind can't get out of here without one!" Her tone became accusing, "I thought you said you had a plan!"

Santana indignantly replied.

"This was my plan!"

"What?" the other girl snarled, "Running round like headless chickens, waiting to be picked off one by one. Great plan Santana." She added, grumbling under her breath, "Newborns!"

How dare the stuck up cow, after everything, Santana had done, risking her life and practically selling her soul in order to manoeuvre things into position. It had been no easy feat, waiting night after night, worrying whether Sebastian would see through her and throw her to Medici or whether she would have to go through with her promise to Lylah. Lucinda had, had it easy. Simmering with rage, she snapped,

"I'd like to see you come up with a better plan! Oh yeah, that's right Your Majesty, whilst you sitting on your hole in your castle I was working my ass off. You wouldn't have got out of your cell if it wasn't for me."

Stepping towards the Latin girl, Lucinda's hazel eyes flashed,

"I would have gotten out of there without your street walking help!"

Santana closed the gap standing nose to nose with the blond, her hands balled into fists at her sides, shaking with barely contained rage.

"Oh really? Then why haven't you escaped before now?."

The two girls' eyeballed each other, daring the other to take a swing. After a few tense moments, Lucinda's shoulders slumped in resignation and she took a step back.

"We aren't getting any where fighting." Scrunching her eyes and rubbing her forehead, she sighed, "Please tell me that you have at least put some thought into where we can go to ground?"

Santana huffed, waving her arms,

"Give me a break! You can't expect me to think of everything. Isn't it about time you brought something to the table?"

"Santana, we don't have time for this. We have to get out of here as quickly as possible and get as far away as the night will allow.

"Well in that case, what are we doing standing here, lets go get one of those Voodoo people you keep yapping on about"

Lucinda furrowed her brow and chewed on her bottom lip in silence. The echoes from the tunnels reverberated off the walls, the strange shape and uneven surface of the channels, distorting it making it impossible to tell how near or far away their would be captors were.

Coming to a decision, the china doll straightened her shoulders and set her jaw determinedly,

"Ok. Wait here." She touched Santana lightly on the arm, "If I don't make it out of here, will you make me a promise?"

Santana nodded,

"Anything."

"Please will you go to Zurich in Switzerland and find The House of Dubois. Tell them what happened."

Squeezing the pale hand in her own, the caramel vampire nodded, blinking her eyes furiously to hide the fact she was overwhelmed by the touching affection of her friend her voice betrayed her, coming out thick,

"Go!"

Lucinda gave her a brief hug and set off down the sewer, leaving Santana alone in the dark with her thoughts and fears. She had always known that their escape would be fraught with peril and that the charms may give them trouble. The more time they wasted their odds of escaping narrowed and the possibility of one of them being killed became more of a reality

She doubted that any of the ghouls that currently stalked the tunnels would be out to kill her specifically, she was almost sure that Sebastian wouldn't be too happy about that, but they might make a mistake.

It wasn't the dying she feared, heck she's already managed it once and look how that had turned out, it was the fear of surviving, the fear of what would happen after she was caught. She was almost certain she would suffer and most horrifically, if that did indeed happen, yet worse, she would be in no position to protect Brittany, in fact she may even have to place her in harms way by asking her for help.

She would go to hell before she would do that.

No, she would remain positive. Fabray was going to be like some stalking Lioness, grabbing what they needed. They were going to get rid of that ridiculous spell and be out into the night before you could say 'Carpe Juggleum'

She toed the rats, who in their terror, began to scrabble over her feet. The feeling of their wet fur, sharp claws and scaly tail whipping against her skin caused her to shudder.

They were more petrified of other things down here, rather than her.

X

Lucinda returned with a refined looking young man, struggling pathetically under her arm. She had stuffed a gag in his mouth to quieten his cries in case he alerted anyone to their where abouts.

Setting him down and gripping him by the throat, the china doll rammed him back into the solid wall. Leaning in menacingly, she hissed,

"Now, I am going to remove this and if you scream I shall tear out your throat. If you don't answer our questions, I shall tear out your throat. In fact do you know what?" The man shook his head in response, eyes flitting in terror between the two vampires. She continued, "I might just tear out your throat for the sake of it. Would you like that?"

Once again, the well-dressed young man, wide eyed, whipped his head from side to side so fast it almost became a blur.

"Ok"

She pinched the material between her thumb and forefinger tearing it from his mouth. He coughed and spluttered, gasping for air.

Santana deliberately crowded him, demanding,

"Are you a Mystic?"

He nodded. She pointed down the sewer,

"Can you get rid of that?"

Santana could smell the fear off him as he babbled, petrified.

"I.. I don't know.. It.. It will take time."

"Well comrad, we don't have time so I suggest you get to it before I allow her to make good on her promise."

He skittered past her, throwing himself on his knees in the sewerage, his fingers tracing the air in front of him. Santana cast glances down the passageway, watchful of anyone wishing to get the jump on them. He pulled out a red crystal and strange coloured eyeglass. Peering through it, he muttered to himself. Sitting back on his haunches, he announced timidly,

"I don't think I can do it!"

Lucinda laid a firm hand on his shoulder, baring her fangs, veiling her threat in syrupy sweetness,

"Would you like me to turn you into my own personal thrall? Not quite dead, not quite undead. It's against your religion, if Im correct."

Even in the gloom, Santana saw him visibly blanch and his hands shook as he began to remove more items from his many pockets. His voice wavered as he attempted bravado,

"I don't have to help you!"

Santana had to give him credit, even in the face of imminent death, he had somehow managed to dig down deep and find his balls. She threw in his direction,

"Come here, when Sebastian gets back, he's going to kill everyone, including you!"

His eyes darted weasely and he licked his lips.

"I could just step through and leave you!"

In a blur, Lucinda gripped him by the nuque, shoving his face into the putrid water. She held him under, her nails breaking his tender flesh, until he began to thrash, his hands scrabbling to push himself up as Santana watched in surprise at the sudden appearance of Miss Fabray's dark side.

Ripping him out of the liquid, she leant down to his ear as he coughed and retched, shit and urine dripping from his hair.

"Have you heard of The Informer and do you see those rats over there?" He heaved in reply, "He will sell what they have witnessed to the right people who_ will_ come looking for you. And I can assure you Vampires are much better at hunting your kind than any Witch Finder."

The petite blond threatened to give him another dunking. He shrieked,

"No! ..no .no please!"

"So which is it? Would you like to live, or would you like to die?"

Roughly shoving him, she straightened herself, taking a small step back, giving him space to work. Santana slapped her friend on the back,

"Well Lucy la floozy, Never knew you had it in you! I'm impressed."

Lucinda gave her a wicked smirk,

"I have many talents."

Santana playfully teased,

"You're kinda scary hot."

Lucinda swatted at her,

"Shut up you wanton hussy."

Santana watched him, his hands flying over the objects that to the untrained eye would look like ordinary junk. Not a single piece of it looked Mystical or capable of harnessing any great power. He muttered everyday words under his breath that would seem to have no meaning as he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. He would every now and again press his palms against the barrier, checking the resistance.

Once more returning to the objects, he hesitated. Sweating and nervous, he banged the heels of his palms against his temples. A cracked in half and useless thread spool twinkled with a light hue of purple. Santana blinked. It appeared flickering and then was gone. The sound of Wolves and Vampires approaching drifted up the narrow tunnel. The Mystic began to panic.

It was the moment of truth.

It had never been about her, had it really?

She had made a decisions days ago, that Lucinda was the important one. Her own escape would have been the icing on the cake, but if she were honest with herself, she had always known, deep down, she would never make it outside these walls, at least not this time

It was never meant to be.

Even if she had managed to escape, where would she go? How would she survive? Lucinda was right, she was a new born, she did not know where was safe to sleep and where was safe to eat.

It had always been about Lucinda.

She untied the strip of cloth with the looped manacle that hung from her waist, wrapping it securely round her palm. The snarls of the Wolves fast approaching rang loud in her ears.

They had smelled them and would be here soon.

The terrified Mystic quaked and lost his concentration and a darker wet patch appeared at his crotch. Tearing at his hair, he blubbered,

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry.."

"The spool!" Santana offered gently.

He snapped his fearful eyes at her,

"The spool!" She repeated.

His hands scrabbled gripping the spool until his knuckles turned white, returning to his task, muttering his spell and manoeuvring the strange objects in a seemingly random order. Santana went to take a step down the tunnel. Lucinda stopped her with a light hand,

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to draw them away and give you time."

The blonds face broke in horror gasping,

"Tana, No! We have plenty."

The brunette looked her dead in the eye with steely determination,

"No Lucinda! You don't!"

Lucinda kicked the Mystic who yelped, demanding

"Work faster you idiot or I'll hunt down your whole family and fiend them."

Santana reached out for her friend,

"Luce, stop." Taking pale hands in her own tanned ones, she asked timidly, "Just promise you'll come back for me."

The blond brought her into a bone crushing hug, sniffling into her hair. Santana could feel her nodding against her shoulder.

No individual howl or yell was decipherable. The sounds rose together in a deluge of the macabre. It surrounded them and the floor underfoot vibrated with the mobs every step. Nearly every phenomenal creature that swore fealty to Sebastian would be upon them in matter of minutes.

Santana untangled herself from the comfort from the woman she thought of as her best friend, the only flesh and blood kindness she had received since her creation. Lucinda attempted to hold on but Santana firmly removed her slender arms. She pressed a chaste kiss to her pale cheek,

"Good luck!"

She turned, making her way across slick stonework, forcing her body not to betray her by turning back, afraid of what Lucinda might see what was truly in her eyes. She quickened her step.

As she rounded the corner, less than five hundred yards from the Mystic and the barrier, she met the first of her enemy, hackles raised, the bodies of the dead thralls heavy on his breath as he drooled and watched her with cannibal-crazed eyes.

Steeling her determination, she swung her weapon of choice. Taking a step forward she thought,

'Into the fray'

X

**Ps .. I know how much everyone has been eagerly anticipating this chap, I hope I managed to do it Justice.**

**I started this chap at 12 am Friday.. its now 5:56 am Saturday.. **

**I know it sounds crazy, but I'm going up the country to visit buddys and being that I might not get back till late Monday it would mean this chap wouldn't be up till Tues.**

**I dint wanna leave u guys hanging, on the edge of such climax (hehhe I said climax.. ahmm sorry!) **

**Anyway, I hope u enjoy n I am sorry if it aint exactly what ur excepting.. **

**But.. **


	27. Chapter 27

Hey hoeee and all that jazz, hope the weekend found you all well.

Im sorry some of you were disappointed in the last chap, I shoulda split it in two to be honest but I was impatient n knackerd..

I had two ways I could have gone with it but I went that way and I stick by it.. Id always planned for the barrier.

Thanks to those you that reviewed and PM'd .. And thanks everyone that's reading it.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_The Sewers of The Play House. 1690._

X

Santana Lopez knew she could not fail. She would fight till she couldn't anymore, granting them as many precious seconds that she could.

She would face Lylah's wrath and take whatever evil punishment Sebastian would no doubt come up with just as long as Lucinda made it all worth it by escaping and salvation would be near at hand.

She and the barley brown wolf gauged each other. He, with his humongous paws splayed, head tipped forward and fur standing on end as he growled from the depths of his throat, her, with her fangs bared and hissing in reply.

She knew if she played it smart she could take him.

The sewer was damp, cramped and slippery. His size was not the factor that unsettled her, in fact, his size and shape would help her, it was the glint in his eyes. She had seen it in many faces over the years.

The wolf was three kinds of crazy and it made him unpredictable.

She would have to move fast.

She rushed him, catching by the underside of his throat, wrapping her strong fingers round the cartilage, careful to avoid his long, sharp claws that attempted to maim her.

Lifting him, she stretched his whole body up from his hind legs, making him taller than she was, but she kept close to his wet underbelly giving him no room to manoeuvre. He tried to change forms but she drove him back full force into the brickwork. He struggled against her, snarling, his teeth snapping dangerously close to her ear. She power drove him, again and again, into the solid surface, dashing his skull to pulp, until the mortar crumbled.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder, nails cutting into her flesh, wrenching her round. She drove the heel of her palm upwards. She felt it connect with the soft bone of a nose, crushing it underneath.

The momentarily stunned Vampire staggered. Santana knew she had no time to waste. Deftly gripping the sides of the Vampires head, she dug her thumbs into their squishy orbs. Her opponent scratched at her, deeply gouging the skin of her upper chest and throat.

Screaming like a banshee, full of pain and anger, she forced the Vampire down on the ground, straddling their hips, thrashing in the sewerage and twisting her thumbs round and down with all the strength she could muster. The Vampire let out a shriek of agony, flailing wildly, as Santana felt the two orbs explode, spraying vitreous humor over her hands and face.

Her chest heaving and her raven hair falling forward like a veil she continued to scream and grind her fingers even after the vampire ceased to move.

'That's how we do it in Basque, bitches!'

Still on her knees and fingers buried deep within gooey eye sockets, a commotion further down the sewer caught her attention.

"Get her!"

It was teeming.

Wolves crowded the bottom, a vampire crawled along the ceiling, its face twisted into a wicked mask, and another was trying to fight its way past the hulking masses of the hounds, eager to get to her.

There was no way she could take them all on at once.

Leaping up, she took to her heel, back down the tunnel towards Lucinda. The wolves behind her bayed as they took chase. Slipping, she skidded round the corner, her manacles clanging off the walls, she screamed,

"Fabray! Get the fuck out of here!"

Further down, Lucinda looked at her, more pale faced than usual, and began slapping at the Mystic.

Santana flung herself down into a crouch, laying in wait at the very edge of the sharp corner hoping the narrowness of the turn and the slick paving stones would help her out. If luck was on her side, they would come down too fast, expecting her to have continued on.

She counted to herself, an old habit she used in her previous life to calm her nerves.

A dirty yellow wolf and a reddish brown one burst round the corner, sliding and knocking each other off balance as they tried to make the turn. Santana swung, praying her timing would be perfect. It landed true and the wolf, furthest away from her, collapsed chin first sending up a spray of shit coloured water, one of its front legs shattered.

She leapt at the other, grasping its snout and bottom jaw attempting to pry them open. Her feet slid across greasy stone as she braced herself and pushed back, the jaws slobbering inches from her face.

She suddenly found herself in mid air, her scalp burning as she was lifted by the hair. She cried out as a volley of hard, fast punches connected with her ribs and torso. She was sure she felt something inside break. A hand tightened round her neck, pinning her to the wall, whilst nails raked her forearms and face as she tried to defend herself, swinging her manacles blindly. The pressure on her throat disappeared

The dirty yellow wolf snapped beneath her, lunging at her its paws shredding her skirt and grazing her thigh. Kicking out, she caught it in the snout. It let out a yelp but recovered, returning to snap at her once more.

The momentum of the wolf pushed her up the uneven brickwork into the arch of the ceiling, scrapping her buttocks and back. She looked down into its rolling eyes and glistening teeth as she forced its mouth open, grunting with the effort, using the ceiling as leverage.

She fended off a Vampire to her left and another in front of her as a grey wolf barged past the one beneath her. It bounded down the sewer towards Lucinda and the Mystic, baying for blood.

"Luce!" She screamed in warning.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Mystic grab Lucinda who seemed frozen. As Santana struggled against her assailants, a Vampire and human Versipellis grabbed her ankles.

There were too many. She was being assaulted from all sides and being over powered.

The grey wolf closed the gap.

The Mystic roared,

"Ab Intra!"

There was a bright flash and a bang that shook the whole tunnel as the wolf broke against the invisible barrier at full speed turning into a heap of bubbling flesh. The Mystic fell back on his haunches in surprise.

Santana once more attempted to shake off her attackers. Hands grabbed her waist, flinging her mercilessly against the cold paving stones, banging her head against the lip of the channel. She coughed and spluttered, spitting out foul water. Fists and feet collided with her small body.

Someone sat on her back, yanking her hair so harshly she thought her neck would snap like a twig. She continued to thrash as she screamed,

"GO."

The last thing she saw was the pale, worried face of her friend before she felt an almighty thump against her temple, her vision swam then her whole world turned black as she slipped into unconsciousness.

X

_TheHole. 16? She doesn't know._

X

It turned out Santana had not discovered everything. She had not known about the Versipellis that had slept in a heap near the grand hallway.

She had never heard mention of The Hole, but knew now.

She had no idea how long she had been down here, trapped and left to rot in the encompassing dark, her hands and feet manacled to the wall in such a way that she could not lay down even if she wanted to.

Battered and bruised, she kept her movements to a minimum. Her hair matted with blood and one of her eyes swollen shut, she was too weak to move even if she wanted to try. She had lost all feeling in her feet and her buttocks were numb from the cold, a cold that managed to grip every fibre of her being even in her undead form.

She curled herself up as small as she could, wincing and clutching the green dress in her lap with despair. Her fingers knew by memory the hole where here friend's heart would have lain.

They had told her they had found it and that Lucinda had gone to dust just like her last glimmer of hope. They had cruelly flung it at her as they jeered and mocked, that she would never be free. At that, she had sobbed until her eyes and throat were raw and she had nothing left to give.

The thirst made it impossible to sleep.

Her tongue was swollen fat with it. Her skin crawled as if creatures burrowed beneath it, her muscles throbbed with a dull, deep ache and she could not control the spasms.

In her delirium, her eyes deceived her as she saw and heard her brothers and sister playing amongst the rotting corpses of the thralls that kept her company.

Brittany told her it would be ok to take a lick, a small lick, of the black congealed blood that pooled just out of her reach.

She watched the blond trail her slender pale fingers through it, bringing it, dripping, to her lips. She sucked on her fingers and let out a satisfied hum.

"Songbird, it tastes so good."

Esperansa skipped over,

"Britty I wanna try." She whined.

Brittany scooped up some more offering out her fingers to the young girl. Esperansa stood on her tiptoes, sticking out her pink tongue, swiping at the blonds fingers as if it was an ice treat,

"Yum!" She exclaimed, "It is nice!"

Santana's stomach twisted excruciatingly, starving or not she would not do it. _Her _Brittany would never ask her to do that. She shifted, turning herself to the wall and away from the taunting vision.

If she could just sleep, even for a few minutes she would call her, she would admit to being a fool, that it had been too big to handle and she needed her help, that she needed Brittany's warmth and comfort.

She was slightly aware of the scrapping of a heavy, rusty bolt being pulled back, then another. A shaft of bright light came through the door. She flinched further into the corner at the sound of approaching footsteps.

A hand roughly pulled her hair, the swelling of her scalp caused her to whimper as they tipped back her head. She squinted against the harsh brightness, her good eye screaming in pain at the sudden illumination,

"You're awake," A feminine voice purred, "Good!"

Santana forced her eye open a fraction barely able to focus on the cold, green eyes that peered down at her,

A fast fist collided with her cheekbone. She let out an agonised groan.

"Bring the whore!" Lylah demanded, "Be quick. He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

She barely registered when someone began to unchain her. She felt numb, as if everything was far away and wasn't happening to her. Two hands gripped her biceps from either side, digging into her tender flesh, yanking her to her feet. Her knees gave way and her shoulders screamed in protest as they dragged her.

Her body hung limp between them as her toes grazed across the cobblestones, leaving her skin behind. They bumped her down a flight of stairs and through a number of subterranean hallways.

They entered the hall of House of Bastian and the brunette was vaguely aware of a mass of bodies watching her with interest. Santana recognised the structure in the centre of the hall they dragged her towards.

She began to panic as they flung her face first against the unforgiving coarse wood, feebly struggling against the strong hands that gripped her, strapping her up by her arms and legs. She uttered,

"No!... no!"

She could take many things but she knew in her heart of hearts she would be unable to withstand that. It would shatter what bit of sanity she possessed. Unable to support its weight, her head lolled forward between the inverted apex of the X.

Somebody stepped behind her, she tensed, a small whimper escaping her as she felt hot, putrid smelling breath against the back of her neck. Calloused fingers skirted across her skin. Suddenly the flimsy material was ripped from her, leaving her back exposed.

She waited for what was left of her skirt to follow and was slightly relived when it did not and the presence behind her disappeared.

The room buzzed with anticipation. In her befuddled state, she could not make out the words of the excited chatter.

She was stretched uncomfortably wide, her legs splayed and her arms raised, her back to the dais where Sebastian would sit. She couldn't move.

This was it, this was her end.

She begged to herself,

'Please let me die.'

Two pale feet appeared in her line of vision and once more, her hair was roughly grabbed. In her left hand, coiled like a snake, Lylah held a black bullwhip, a wicked glint of silver at the tip. Mockingly, she tapped Santana's chin,

"Do you know what this is?"

The red head lovingly stroked the icy cold leather over a high, tanned cheek, tapping it against the bruise that was beginning to form. Santana bit her tongue for the pain. Making sure the brunette could she the sharpness of the embedded blade, Lylah hissed,

"It's your punishment." She drew raven hair to one side, whispering in her ear, "We're going to dip it in holy water just to give it that extra bite."

Sebastian came into her view. In his white breeches and yellow waistcoat, he smiled at her as he languidly rolled up his sleeves. Not a reaction Santana was expecting after she practically burned down his establishment. He cleared his throat,

"Santana it would seem you have been a rather busy bee whilst I was gone" He waved a finger at her, "Tut! Tut! Just when I was beginning to trust you. However, it was not your fault."

She heard the sharp sound of bone on skin and Lylah's head whip to the side from the force as he back handed her across the face. Lylah clutched her cheek, her eyes burning. Sebastian continued, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back,

"It would seem I have been far too lenient with you and I have been going about everything all wrong."

Santana tried to swallow and lick her dry, cracked lips. She forced herself to speak, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper,

"Do what you will."

He spun on the balls of his feet, laughing aloud, the sound bounced around inside the thick fog in her head.

"Oh Santana I'm not going to kill you. Not when I've found out you have been keeping secrets from me, "He stepped closer, eyes bright like a child at Christmas, lowering his voice as if telling a secret, he breathed, "I know she's sensed you and I know exactly how to get what I want." Stepping away, he announced brightly to the hall, "Its surprising what people will tell you on pain of death."

The hall filled with titters and brays.

It took a few seconds for Santana to realise what he had said. She attempted to tug herself free.

"I won't!" She rasped

He mocked,

"Look at that! Defiant until the end!"

He snapped his fingers. A huge, glistening Versepellis stepped forward, his arms and shoulders bulged. Lylah handed him the bullwhip.

"Dip it in Priests Bane. Twenty lashes to start" Sebastian stepped back towards the prone and fragile Latin girl, "Let's see how defiant you will be when your skin is flayed from your bones and your skin bubbles!"

Lylah let go of her head. She was aware of them walking away whilst the rest of the House watched on, eagerly.

She tried to muster herself, trying her hardest not to think of the only good thing in her wretched, miserable after life.

She tried not to think of golden spun hair, of soft, luminous skin, of caring, cerulean eyes and her gentle caress.

The air shifted and she heard the distinctive crack by her ear. Her muscles screamed in protest as she flinched.

She tried not to think of the smell of spring mornings or of an impish smile.

She tried to brace herself for the onslaught.

It was as if in slow motion, the air shifted, the leather laboriously licked her back before the tip sliced in deep, from just beneath her right shoulder blade, diagonally down to the top curve of her left buttock.

It took a couple of moments, then she felt the smart.

White-hot searing pain that caused spots behind her eyes, it was as if somebody held a flame to her back. Her skin bubbling and blistering as the Priest's Bane scorched deep into the tissue.

She barely had time to react before she was lashed with another and yet another.

She let out a piercing ear splitting scream and all she could think was, Brittany.

X

**Ps .. oooer its all heating up… dum dum dum! **


	28. Chapter 28

Wow! Over 300 reviews ..

The feedback on the last chap was astounding! *toes ground* Thanks guys..

Things be hotting up for our ladies, hope ya like it.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzerland. 1690. House of Dubois_

X

She waved the book playfully out of his reach, laughing and giggling as the shorter vampire jumped up and down like an attention starved terrier.

"Brittany," Kurt whined, "Give it back!"

"Naaa haa!" She teased.

She scooted away from him, nipping around to the other side of the dining table, always just out of his grasp. Holly cast them a glance from the comfort of her armchair, smiling at their child like antics, before returning to the papers she was studying.

Kurt made a lunge for the young blond as she gracefully twirled away from her.

"Come on Britt, you have to learn this."

Brittany replied like a churlish infant, pouting,

"I don't wanna.!"

Holly chuckled to herself. Kurt shot her a glare, exclaiming,

"Its not funny."

"Oh but it is." The older vampire, replied.

He sidled round the table, attempting at catching Brittany.

The room shifted slightly, its lines and colours becoming distorted. Brittany blinked, the split second almost costing her, her advantage as she darted away.

A scorching pain lashed across her back. She stumbled against the table, catching herself by her palms. The room swelled again and her vision swam.

Her face pinched in worry, Holly asked, concerned,

"Brittany?"

Another flash of excruciating pain came over her, from the bottom of her right shoulder blade to the curve in her left buttock. She cried out, nails gouging grooves into the timber beneath as she attempted to brace herself against the unexpected sensation.

Her skin bubbled and burned as if it was melting under intense heat. She was vaguely aware of Holly leaping to her feet as she fell onto the table, the coolness of the wood beneath her cheek.

She shrieked once more at yet another lash, the table, and the room disappeared

X

She was surrounded by an oppressive darkness.

A darkness so black it contained not an iota of refracted light. Its texture so thick, she felt as if she was fighting her way through a quagmire. It sucked at her limbs as she attempted to move. It pulsed with anguish, hurt and despair, overwhelming her, claiming every particle of happiness within her soul, filling her with misery.

On the edge of her hearing, she could make out muffled sobs. She called, cautiously, into the murk,

"Hello?"

"Britt?" Came the tiny, voice. It sounded strange, near yet at the same time far away.

Staring into the gloom, Brittany could just about distinguish the outline of a person curled up in the foetal position. She took a tentative step forward. Something about the person felt familiar.

"Songbird?" She queried, confused.

'Oh God.' She thought, as she fought her way through, coming to crouch beside the fragile form of her lover. She reached out and her heart shattered as Santana shrank from her touch.

"It hurts." Santana wailed, the pain in her voice bringing Brittany to tears.

Brittany gently manoeuvred the brunette into her lap, taking note of how she winced and quivered. She tenderly stroked the hair out of her lover's face and what she saw caused her to gasp. Her beautiful girlfriend's face was barely recognisable. Her usually creamy, caramel skin, covered in ugly wheals of dark purple and greenish blues. Her cheekbone, caved and her eye swollen shut, her perfect eyebrow torn.

Who had done this to her?

Santana continued to weep,

"I'm sorry Britt, I'm so sorry."

Tears of guilt and shame poured down Brittany's face as she attempted to sooth her lover,

"Shhh baby, I'm here now."

She asked herself, why hadn't she pushed her harder?

She had known Santana was keeping something from her, that something was wrong and instead of encouraging Santana to tell her she had idly sat back, frolicking with Kurt, whilst she faced whatever untold horrors alone. Her lack of attention had caused the most precious thing in her life to suffer. She choked back her own sob, pleading,

"Tell me who did this to you sweetheart. Tell me so I can come and find you". Brittany begged, "Santana, please!"

She continued to caress her, waiting for a reply. Santana's cries slowly quietened down to snivels and sniffs as she sank further into Brittany's lap, burying her face in her breeches and drinking in Brittany's scent. The blond lightly stroked her shoulders with her fingertips, careful not to touch the deep gouges she found there. Brittany heard her breath against the fabric,

"Sebastian."

Santana's fingers suddenly dug into her thigh as she gripped her for dear life. They both cried out as the sensation of their skin splitting, returned.

The dark began to take shape, turning into deep greens and blues swirling around them. Brittany could smell blood, smoke and body odour.

"Please don't leave me!" Santana begged, desperately. "I can't go back."

The Latin girl began to feel light in her arms as they clung to each other. The coloured spirals tightened, rotating faster until Brittany began to feel nauseous and dizzy. A sucking sensation ripped her from Santana. The brunette remained curled in a ball, spinning around and away from her reach.

"Santana!" She yelled and was met with no response.

Brittany felt her bones and muscles flex in an unnatural way, she struggled against it, trying to get back to where she was needed most. She screamed,

"No!"

In a blink, she was gone.

X

Brittany slammed hard into something solid and unforgiving, the smell and taste of blood strong in her nostrils and mouth. It tasted oily and mouldy. She murmured.

"No!"

A feminine voice she didn't know purred, tauntingly, in her ear,

"Wakey, wakey. It's time to play."

What was happening?

Her body felt alien and she had no clue as to where she was. Disorientated, she rapidly blinked her eyes and tried to shake the groggy feeling from her head.

She was strapped up to some sort of device by her arms and legs. She tried to tug herself free but she found she had no strength. The last time she remembered feeling this weak was when she was human and ill.

Her muscles ached, her ankles and wrists smarted but it was nothing compared to the pain in her back. She had come across a similar feeling before in Paris when a rather smart meal had thrown a burning liquid at her.

Opening her eyes and wincing at the sting, she saw dark, matted locks falling round her face.

Nothing was making any sense.

Who was she?

She thrashed against her restraints, grunting with the effort and ceased when her body protested.

The feminine voice addressed her again,

"Nice to see you still have some fight left in you Lopez."

Realisation dawned her, somehow she was in Santana's body.

Lifting her head, she forced her eyes to open a little more. She was in some sort of hall, surrounded by a press of bodies that watched intently. In front of her stood a pale, slender red head with bright green eyes and a wicked, cruel smirk.

Trying to make sense of the situation, Brittany concentrated, reaching back into her mind. Yes, Santana was still there, small and weak, a ball of deep purple that occasionally crackled bright red. In her minds eye, she wrapped herself round it, cocooning it.

Images of Santana's life showed themselves to her, of Brittany, slaughtered victims, burning villages, snatches of conversations, repeated, Basque, a daring escape and a blonde who bore an striking but eerie resemblance to Charlotte.

The red head, Brittany know recognised as Lylah, took a black bullwhip from a sweating, broad shouldered man. Even from where she was chained she could make out the end was soaked crimson.

They were entertaining themselves by torturing her Songbird within an inch of her life. Her already shattered heart crumbled further.

'Santana, why didn't you tell me' she thought mournfully.

A familiar smell of oranges wafted towards her as Lylah approached. She doubled over the bullwhip, pulling the loop quick, causing it to snap inches from her victim's nose, hissing, menacingly,

"Now it's my turn."

So this was the whore who thought she could touch Santana. The red head began to walk away.

"Lylah." She croaked in Santana's broken and hoarse voice

The pale vampire cocked her head.

"What?" She snapped, "Want to beg for mercy?"

Enraged, Brittany growled,

"You better run and hide because I'm coming for you and when I do, I'm going to make you pay. " Straining, she roared, "Do you hear, I am going to make you all pay!"

Amused, Lylah slapped the whip of her own thigh, letting out a melodious laugh,

"You're deluded, Santana."

"No!" Brittany warned, "I'm gonna show you your worst nightmare. That's a promise."

The russet haired girl called out into the hall, grinning at their captive's look of burning hate,

"Seb, I think she's losing it, she's babbling like a mad woman."

"Another twenty lashes should do it."

The voice was male, distinctive and had a slimy quality to it. Brittany felt Santana flinch and quiver at it's sound. The red head disappeared behind her.

She gritted her teeth as the first lash broke against her, the muscles in her back scorching white-hot. The second caused her to bunch and slam back into the solid wood, splinters biting into her skin. She felt viscous liquid ooze down her back.

Keeping herself wrapped around Santana, shielding her, she balled up her mind, immersing them both in the warm emotions of love and affection.

She refused to scream.

X

Someone shook her awake, pouring warm, sweet nectar down her throat, forcing her to splutter then swallow.

"Britt!, Brittany!"

Her vision returned and she looked into the pale, worried faces of Holly and Kurt. She was back in House Dubois, led on the sofa in the dining room,

"I have to get back." She mumbled.

Holly sat perched on the edge of the sofa, clasping a goblet in her slender hand. She raised it to Brittany's lips, pouring the contents in her mouth, asking,

"Brittany, what happened?"

The young blond swallowed again. Feeling her strength and faculties returning, she tried to sit up,

"It's Santana, I need to go!"

Kurt hovered in the background, twisting his hands,

"Where?"

"Rome." Brittany croaked, once more attempting to move.

Holly firmly pushed her back down into the cushions, stating, sternly,

"You are going no where young lady."

Did they not understand she had to leave? Santana was lost and alone in some dark dungeon at the mercy of those animals whilst she was miles away. Who knew what they would continue to do to her during the time it took for Brittany to get to her. Not only would she have to traverse the countryside and by ways but she would have to locate what part of Rome she was in. They were losing precious time.

Consumed with a sudden rage, she gripped Holly by the upper chest of her dress, launching them both off the sofa, screaming,

"Get out of my way!"

They careened and tousled round the room, slamming off objects whilst Kurt yelled at them to stop. Brittany was no match for Holly's superior strength as feet from the floor, with a single hand to her throat, the older blond rammed her into the wall, the brick work buckling behind her. Brittany hissed and twisted, howling,

"Get off me!"

Holly leaned in close. Her voice calm but low and menacing,

"The only reason why I am not tearing your throat out for disrespecting me is because you are my Grand Daughter and you are upset." She growled, "Let go of me before I snap your wrists!"

Burning with fury, Holly's green eyes bore into the younger vampire as she laid light pressure on her slender wrists. Brittany felt the pinch as they began to bend. The fight left her as she let out a huge sob, collapsing against her Grand Dam, wailing,

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Holly wrapped her arms around her, lowering them back to the solid ground, her anger disappearing in an instant. The older blond rubbed soothing circles on the young girls back as she cooed,

"I know HoneyBee."

Brittany shook in her embrace,

"We have to find her."

Holly held her close, with motherly affection she softly reassured her,

"We shall. Charlotte will be back by tomorrow evening and we shall figure out what to do from there, ok?"

Brittany nodded, weakly. Teary-eyed, she surveyed the damage of the dining room. Books lay strewn all over the floor. The dining table lay cracked in half, the bookcase had collapsed completely and the curtain hung precariously. In the middle of the chaos, Kurt turned a book over in his hand, casting a critical eye around the room. He coughed lightly,

"I always thought this place needed redecorating."

X

**Ps guys , well what did ya think of that… Britty B n Lylah… That bitch be getting a smack down.. WWE Diva style!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Dear Guest who was asking if San's Mysic blood would manifest. **It kinda already did a small bit when they were escaping. San saw the flicker on the spool, indicating that it could be used as part of the spell to remove the barrier. And when San called Britt to her own mindscape.

So far it has been Britt that has 'called', for want of a better word, San to her. Britt is more of a daydreamer, that's why Britt's dreamscapes, are dreamscapes and quite pretty and playful. When San slipped into unconsciousness during the punishment she inadvertently 'called' to Britt, bringing her into her mindscape, which if u guessed, was more about emotions and feelings.

Britt and San's corporeal dalliances is a side effect of the two girls meeting their soulmate, made possible by Britts ability, reacting with dreams n San's mystic blood reacts with emotions. It was a total fluke, and not to be mistaken as a Vampire Bonding. That is why Charlotte, Holly and Seb are at a loss as to how it works exactly or how to sever it if need be.

San has no idea that she was the one to open up the conduit this time. Remember she hasn't had anyone explain to her what is going on or why it happens. To her, its just one of those weird things and maybe just something that normally happens to the undead.

The mind swap was triggered because a part of Brittany's psyche/ bond was aware of its soulmates mind being unable to take any more pain and so did what ever it needed in order to protect it.

The feedback on that last chap was like *pkskk, explodey hands* Mind Blown… in fact.. think im still looking for bits of it

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Switzerland. 1690. House of Dubois, finally!_

X

As the carriage rumbled over the uneven track that weaved its way from the city limits up into the mountains, Charlotte could make out in the distance the tiny pinpricks of light through the trees that signified The House of Dubois.

She was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to get home.

If she waited for the carriage to continue its ascent, she may not arrive until the dawn or even after. Impatient to see her Mistress and her offspring, she rapped her knuckles on the wooden partition. Sliding back the peephole, she commanded,

"Stop!"

The carriage lurched to a halt and Charlotte gracefully hopped out.

The moon was high in the clear sky bathing the crisp snow banks awash with silver light. Steam rose from the horses as they snorted and fidgeted causing their harnesses to jangle. Charlotte rid herself of her heavy coat, tossing it back into the carriage.

"I'll walk from here."

The thrall gave a nod to acknowledge it understood, lightly flicking the whip above the horses' haunches. The carriage creaked as it began to move, the sound of hoof beats muffled by the snow. She waited in until it disappeared round the bend before entering the forest.

Nimbly picking her way through the fauna, she was filled with a sense of belonging she always felt when she was coming home.

Even after all these centuries she still got those excited tummy flips and the anticipatory tingles that started from the tips of her fingers and ended at her toes at the prospect of seeing her Dam.

In her previous life, she and her sister were the pride of an English noble father and his French wife. At a young age, she had been married off to a brute in order to keep political alliances within the British ruled region of France. Once it had become apparent that no children would be born of the union, she had been cast to one side whilst her _husband_ philandered with any pretty, serving wench that took his fancy.

She had met Holly one evening in attendance of some nonsensical event called for by the French court. They had passed sly glances at one another from across the room until suddenly Holly was standing beside her and began engaging her in conversation.

Charlotte had been instantly drawn to the mysterious and ethereal beauty. She had found the green-eyed woman witty and charming and they had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning discussing history and other cultures.

Holly had lavished attention on her, challenged her intellect and had listened as the young woman spoke of her ideas that someday in the future women would no longer have to be subordinate to their male counter parts, maybe one day being equals or maybe their superiors. As Holly hailed from Sweden, Charlotte put her worldliness and forward thinking down to it being her upbringing.

They became thick, fast friends and she became a frequent visitor to Charlotte's home, the young noble tripping over herself to accommodate her guest's strange behaviours and unusual customs.

Every time Holly left, Charlotte filled with a sense of loss, pining for her return. It was then that she realised that maybe her feelings towards the slightly older woman had turned into something other than friendly.

At the revelation, she found that her husband's antics no longer bothered her, to the point of refusing to perform certain parts of her wifely duties, telling him to bring who ever he liked to the marriage chamber, as she would no longer be gracing it with her presence. Of course, he had been livid at first but soon forgot as he indulged himself freely.

One cold night, after a few glasses of wine and her heart pounding in her chest, their _friendship _had become something more. Nestled against pale skin whilst Holly stroked her hair, she had realised the woman beneath her had no heartbeat and had mentioned it strange.

Holly came clean.

She had admitted to what she was as if she had no fear that the blond noble would raise the alarm. Instead of fleeing in wild panic, like any other sane person might, Charlotte had paced back and forth in disbelief whilst Holly watched her inquisitively, laying naked in their sex stained sheets without a care in the world.

She had not protested when two strong hands lightly tugged on her wrists until she stood with her knees against the bottom of the bed, between Holly's that dangled over the edge.

She did not utter a warning when the guard called through the door wondering if all was well, instead she gave him some ridiculous excuse about falling bed pots, unable to look away from the woman who captivated her and set her senses a blaze.

Holly had kissed her, telling her she could give the young woman the world and a chance to see the future she imagined, if only Charlotte would allow. All she had to do was give Holly a little something in return but she would give her a few days to ponder her offer, as Holly would not take it by force.

It had to be her choice.

For days, Charlotte had wandered the halls in deep contemplation before coming to a decision and seeking out the vampire. When she presented herself, Holly had given her a smug smirk, telling her she knew that she had been right, Charlotte was different and she had known she would not disappoint.

And so the young noble had given herself willingly.

It had been glorious, Holly filling her with the feeling that she was wanted and that she finally belonged.

She always would belong.

X

Flinging open the huge, ponderous doors she hurriedly and excitedly wandered into the hallway as they closed with resounding boom. She tapped the excess snow off her boots, holding on to the wall as she leant back, looking up and down the corridors as she stood on the backs of her boots, kicking them off, leaving them where they lay. She was met with a un natural silence and lack of activity as she called.

"I'm home!"

She took in a huge gulp of air, immersing herself in the lingering scent of crisp mountains, which would always be synonymous with her Dam, and the playfulness of spring mornings that belonged to her offspring. She could even make out the girly perfume that signified Kurt.

"Nana? Kurt?" She padded bare foot across the wooden floor to the banister calling once more, "Little one?"

Not a creature stirred.

Frowning, she made her way to library. It was always possible that they had gone into the city to hunt being they would not be expecting her until much later, but usually there would be a thrall on hand even if it was make sure that the house didn't set on fire. She opened the door, peering in, on finding it vacant she continued.

Maybe Brittany with her playful nature had turned her arrival into some sort huge game of hide and seek. Grasping both handles, she grandly flung open the dining room doors, leaping playfully into the room and froze on the spot at the sight.

Furniture lay shattered, books strewn all over the floor, pictures hung askew and the huge fireplace was black and cold. Tendrils of fear crept through her very bones and her stomach flipped in dread. Her mind began to run riot with images of Methuselah.

Bubbling with panic, she bolted down the hallway, flinging open the doors to every room calling for her loved ones. Noticing a sliver of faint light peeking out from under the study door and shadows moving, she burst through the door.

Holly spun round in fright at the sudden entrance. Charlotte cleared the space between them in on swift move, embracing her Mistress, who cupped her cheeks and kissed her. Charlotte kissed her back, desperately, murmuring with relief in between kisses,

"I thought… I thought.."

"Shh, I sorry. I didn't think." She pressed a light kiss to Charlotte's forehead. "We don't have much time Charlotte, we need to pack."

Charlotte watched on confused as Holly pulled from her embrace and began frantically going round the room, grabbing papers and parchments. Something was off; she had not seen her Mistress this unsettled since the dark days. There was also the lack of thralls and the silence of two imps up to no good. She began,

"Holly, why do I need to pack? Where are the little ones?"

The older blond rested on the desk one hand whilst rubbing her forehead with the other, she let out a huff, fixing Charlotte with worried green eyes. The feeling of dread and foreboding intensified as she caught the expression on Holly's face.

"Nana, What is it?"

Holly replied, matter a factly,

"They are gone."

No, this couldn't be happening. She had left her sweet, innocent offspring in the safe hands of her maker and her friend. What could have gone wrong, had she been so preoccupied and neglectful she hadn't felt her dear child leave this world? She felt nauseous moaning aloud,

"No! no!"

The older woman not noticing Charlotte's grief continued to pack parchments and papers into leather binders, looping the leather, scalding,

"I woke up this evening and the two bull headed tykes had disappeared after I gave them strict instructions to wait." She stormed round the desk, slamming the binder in the table, before returning to fill another, she continued, "Well, I'd dare say it was Brittany's doing and Kurt just followed."

Charlotte picked up a discarded jug from the table to calm her shattered nerves. For a moment she had ran cold with fear thinking the worse. Sniffing the contents, she took a huge gulp. She pulled a face, it was luke warm but it would do.

"What happened?"

Holly's face suddenly became grave.

"I'll explain on the way. Right now, we need to leave as soon as possible. If we are quick, we might catch them before they get themselves into trouble."

She scrambled through more books and papers on her desk before finding what she was looking for. She held out a tiny scroll,

"Here, this came for you."

Charlotte took it hesitantly and began to untie the tiny thread that held it closed. She stirred as she felt a light touch on her shoulder and soft lips pressed to her cheek,

"I'm glad you're home, I missed you."

Charlotte smiled wanly in reply as Holly disappeared down the hall, muttering to herself about younglings. Between her small fingers, she unrolled the delicate scroll. Instantly she recognised the neat cursive of an alphabet only she could decipher. She had just about given up hope. Her knees went weak as she became awash with emotion. Worry, relief, grief, excitement, mingled in the stress and exhaustion of travelling began to take its toll. She collapsed into a near by armchair, reading the scroll over and over just to make sure she wasn't dreaming and she would wake up to find herself in a casket far away from home.

Holly returned with various small boxes and objects in her arms, seeing Charlotte she paused, asking with concern,

"Honeybee, what is it?"

Charlotte allowed the miniature scroll to fall in her lap. With a small smile and tears of relief in her eyes, she whispered in disbelief,

"It's Lucinda! She's alive!"

X

**Ps maybe not my best buuuuut next chap will be britt and kurt in… Rome! (if it works out, of course)**

I needed to make some clarification on charlotte plus few more pointer things..


	30. Chapter 30

**Dear Guest.. ** Holly is Charlotte's _and_ Lucinda's maker. Luce and Charlie are RL sisters hence Calan being a dirty rat bastard asking Charlotte if they ever shared.

Holly and Lucinda's relationship never really leant that way, even though Charlotte didn't particularly listen and stormed off, throwing a jealous hissy fit for a few years.

Personally, Luce thinks her sister blew things way out of proportion and behaved like a total drama queen. Its not like it involved feelings or anything.. She just wanted to know what it was like to be with a woman.. ;)

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat**

X

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome. She's completely lost. 1690's._

X

Standing in yet another gargantuan square that thronged with foot traffic, Brittany could not help but feel a swell of gratitude towards the well-dressed young man currently kicking stones at the flock of pigeons that bobbed and cooed at his feet. Occasionally she would hear him curse under his breath,

"Shoo!. Sodding rats with wings. Shoo"

He would give a comical flap of his hands and the small grey and black birds would scoot out of his way only to return, swarming round his ankles. They seemed quite taken with him.

She really didn't deserve him as a best friend, not after practically forcing him to come with her. Actually, if truth were told, there had been no practically about it.

Brittany, member of the undead brethren, had kidnapped Prince Kurt, putting him in a situation he had no wish to be in. He had been quite vocal about the whole thing.

The night of 'the incident' in House Dubois, Brittany had not been pleased with the lack of action on Holly's part and so had come up with a plan.

The young vampire had slyly waited until everyone had retired to their caskets and then commanded her favourite thralls to remove Kurt and herself into the already prepared travel wagon whilst they slumbered and make haste to Rome.

It had been sheer genius.

Well, right up until Kurt woke up to find himself already in transit and miles away from the comfort of his room. He had, to put it mildly, had a bit of a bitch fit which consisted of him ranting and raving about incurring Holly's wrath and a rather colourful scalding for her rash decision. He had even gone so far as to attempt to turn the thralls around but finding Brittany's sway over them too strong, he had given up.

She had offered him the chance to return but made it quite clear that she would be continuing regardless.

She needed to get to Santana and nothing was going to change her mind.

He had grumbled that to leave her by herself would only get them both killed and resigned himself to his fate. He had sulked for a number of days, refusing to talk to her preferring the company of a book. By day five Brittany had, had enough of the awkward tension and told him exactly what she had witness and why it was so important. After that, he seemed to think of the journey as a mission to save a damsel in distress and stopped being quite as snippy.

X

Upon arriving in Rome, the young blond had taken an immediate disliking to the place.

It was all at once too clean and yet at the same time, tainted.

Her first feeding had almost made her sick, their memories flashing across her mind, encompassed in shame. She had not been prepared for the onslaught. Usually she sauntered through a mindscape but it was as if her victim screamed to have it's sins seen. Her victim had not feared her or death in the normal way. It feared something else entirely.

The whole ordeal had thrown Brittany for a loop and so she had felt around, probing other minds and found the same gnawing self-loathing.

What could be so powerful as to make a whole city share such a unanimous feeling of oppressive guilt?

Brittany could not shake the unsettling feeling that she ought not to be here and that they were being watched. Even Kurt, who was normally so confident in himself, was nervy and skittish.

He had warned that they needed to be extra careful as Rome was the seat of power for the Crusaders, the enemy of any phenomenal being, and only a fearless idiot or a wily opponent would make it their home, neither of which could be relied upon for predictability.

Brittany wanted to find Santana and get as far away from the city as possible but finding her was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. She had assumed, quite naively, that she would be able to pick out Santana's distinctive spicy, sweet aroma or at least garner some more clues as to her where abouts. She had not expected the city to be so huge or so confusing.

The roads and thoroughfares were numerous and wide and flanked either side by long, low buildings swathed in hues of umber, dull orangey yellows and pale tans or large temples. Every street seemed to open out into cobbled courtyards and squares, the only distinguishable difference being the bubbling fountains or intricately carved statues of men and creatures she could not name, majestically pointing in opposite directions.

Carts of produce trundled past and the numerous shops did rip roaring trade well into the evening. Guards strolled around keeping an ever-watchful eye as people in odd costumes and masks acted out scenes for all to see. Occasionally a priest or a holy man would pass, head bent and moving with purpose, causing Kurt to shudder.

It seemed to Brittany, the city never slept.

She could push all that to one side. The thing that un nerved the young vampire the most was the panic inducing silence of her lover since the incident. Every night she had called and searched for her Songbird in her dreams and had been met with nothing. Even whilst having seen some of Santana's memories, nothing in the city stood out as distinctive. Without their connection to guide her, she was at a loss as to where to begin her search.

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Standing in the sweeping square that teemed with activity, Brittany scrunched up her eyes in concentration.

If she could just get one whiff.

Taking a huge gulp of air, she was once again met with nothing she recognised. She slumped in resignation. Her companion lay a light, comforting hand on her shoulder, asking,

"Nothing?"

She dropped her head and let out a frustrated sigh,

"There's just too many people."

He gently guided her to the lip of the fountain and instructed her to sit. Taking the seat beside her, he kept casting nervous glances over his shoulder. Brittany spotted a number of women dressed in black and white moving with army like presicion. For a moment it looked as if they were making a bee line for the two young vampires. Kurt visably relaxed when they veered to the left, disappearing across the cobblestones.

"Could you not do that mind thingy you do?"

Fiddling with her hands in her lap, Brittany shook her head, desolately,

"It doesn't work like that."

She began to wallow in her melancholy whilst Kurt sat beside her in thoughtful silence. The blond watched as a few children splashed each other in the fountain, laughing and squealing at each other wondering if Santana and she would ever be able to frolic as care free as they.

"There might just be a way."

Brittany blinked, snapping out of her thoughts,

"How?"

Kurt tugged on her hand, pulling her to her feet. He offered out his crooked elbow, nodding at her to take it. She slid her arm through his and they began to make their way across the crowded square. It seemed that even in its bustle, people gave them a wide berth. Making a sweeping gesture with his other hand, Kurt announced,

"This is Rome, my dear, the epicentre of trading in the weird and wonderful for centuries."

"Where are we going?"

Brittany had to hurry to keep up with the excited spring in the young man's step. He grinned at her brightly,

"Shopping!"

X

They twisted down, dark, narrow alleyways that led further into the trading area of the city and away from the squares and courtyards frequented by the pilgrims.

They passed open topped stalls offering silks and fabrics of all colours. Traders held out eggs or ceramics assuring her of their quality. Braziers cooked meats sending up wafts of smoke and aromas that confused her further. A whore asked if she wished to get closer to God for a price.

Occasionally, Kurt would stop abruptly, twirling on the spot, muttering to himself before taking off at a swift pace down yet another unrecognisable alley. All the while, Brittany could not shake the feeling of being followed. She stopped, scanning the rooftops for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, she hurriedly took off in the same direction as Kurt.

"Ahh Haaa! Found it!" He exclaimed, triumphantly, darting through a narrow archway that looked the same as the rest.

Ducking her head so to miss the hanging vines that swept over the entrance, she followed her companion into a small courtyard. In the far corner, a few pigs wallowed in a small sty, squealing and grunting. Chickens roosted along the wall and a cow, tethered to a hitching post watched them with uninterested brown eyes as it flicked its ears and continued to chew it's cud.

Brittany was baffled, how was visiting a farm going to help them find Santana?

Kurt nimbly picked his way across the cobblestones before whipping back a dark hanging and disappearing inside. Popping his head back out, he impatiently beckoned her to follow.

Sweeping the heavy curtain aside, she peered into the dank, cramped room. Pots and pans and strange devices Brittany could not name hung from the ceiling. Shelves either side over flowed with moth eaten clothes and broken household items. They place smelt of mildew. In front of them, the counter was so thick with dust, Brittany could make out tiny mouse prints.

There came an almighty squawk and an obscure voice,

"No Credit! No Credit!"

Brittany spun round, leaping out of her skin and baring her fangs. High up in the rafters sat a brightly coloured bird with a curved back beak. It side stepped along its perch bobbing its head.

"Oh my god!" Brittany gasped, "Is he magic?"

Kurt continued to inspect the shelves, replying,

"No, he's a parrot."

Brittany reached out her fingers towards the bird who opened his wings and lifted up a leg, flexing his long talons. The young blond stopped her approach, waiting with bated breath. The parrot gripped the edge of the wooden shelf with his beak and swung himself down to clasp the shelf with his claws. Using his wings as balance, he twisted his head round and upside as if inspecting her before lightly hopping on to her wrist and bobbing his head to steady himself.

Kurt rolled his eyes,

"Is there anyone that doesn't like you?"

Brittany giggled as she stroked her fingers through the soft feathers in wonderment,

"What is this place?"

"Its an Emporium. It's a long shot, but it may have what we need."

The parrot began playfully nipping at her fingers as it sidled up the length of her arm.

"I thought we needed a guide?" She asked, slightly distracted, mesmerised by the millions of different shades of the parrot's wings.

"We do, and the best way to find a vampire who doesn't want to be found is by using a Snuffer. Nobody can hide from a Snuffer. It's the only redeeming quality they have."

Brittany was about to ask what a snuffer was when they heard a commotion coming from the back and the sound of shuffling feet approaching. A reedy voice called out,

"I have my licence and my permits!"

"Licence and permits, Licence and permits." The parrot squawked giving an enthusiastic flap of its wings.

Brittany had to hold out her arm so as not to get whacked in the face, letting out another giggle.

Kurt rapped his knuckles on the counter,

"We're not from the revenue so you can quit pretending."

The reedy voice suddenly became bright,

"Well in that case then."

There was the rustle and a frail, old man stepped out from behind a curtain. The counter came up to just below his shoulder.

In the gloom, with her acute vision, she could make out her was wearing a bright orange but threadbare waistcoat. He was bald save for the white tufts that stuck out at the sides. His twinkly, intelligent eyes flickered from Brittany to Kurt to the parrot and back to Brittany. He smiled a toothless grin.

Kurt flicked his hair and added a tone to his voice Brittany had only ever heard used by the women at market when haggling for meat or wares.

"We are looking for something in particular and we were told that this Emporium was the best in the whole of Rome."

The little old pulled a face, sucking his gums,

"Ey. You would be right in thinking that. It all depends what you're looking for."

His eyes continued to take in the blond and the colourful bird who was now sat on her upper arm nibbling at her hair.

Kurt went to lean on the counter with an elbow but at the last minute, he saw the dirt and thought better of it.

"Let's not play games. You know what we are. So I'll come out and say it."

He beckoned the old man over to the small gap in the counter and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. The shopkeeper scratched his head sending up a tiny cloud of snow-white flakes. Kurt politely coughed into his hand, turning to pull a face at Brittany.

The little, frail man suddenly became spry, banging pots and pans and announcing a little too loudly,

"We do not trade in such illegal things." As he continued to bash, he motioned to Kurt, lowering his voice. "Come in the back." He pointed to Brittany with a boney finger, "The mind shifter stays here. I don't care how much Horace likes her, she stays away from me you hear."

Kurt rolled his eyes,

"Cut the crap Mako."

Mako waved a sign in the air with his fingers,

"Pksssts, Pkssts."

The shadows in the shop grew longer and darker. Horace squawked on Brittany's shoulder, digging his talons into her and flapping his wings.

"I don't care what's going on with you're lot of late, I want no accusing on my door of telling tales."

"Ok, Ok" Kurt conceded. "She stays."

Mako snapped his fingers and the lighting in the room returned its normal state of dank, gloom. Horace resumed attempting to eat Brittany's ear. The little old man shuffled into the back of the shop, gesturing to Kurt to follow.

Alone with Horace, Brittany took to inspecting the various objects on the shelves. She saw broken books, cracked china cups, old shoes, buckles, crudely fashioned wooden carvings of wolves and what looked like useless household items. Staring intently at the minute detail painted on the rim of a cracked plate, she jumped in surprise as Horace suddenly flapped his wings screeching in panic.

She was rammed face first up against the shelves by a strong hand at the back of her neck, the press of a balled up fist and the tip of something sharp pricking her left shoulder blade. A clipped, well-spoken voice informed her,

"The pricking you are feeling is a stake, if you do not answer my questions to my satisfaction I shall flick my wrist. Nod if you understand?"

Brittany struggled, using the shelves as leverage. The hand on her neck squeezed with such force, she could feel the sinews in her neck popping and the vertebras begin to grind. She tried to reach out for the mind of her attacker but found she could not gain purchase.

"I warn you." The female voice growled, continuing to squeeze, nails digging into Brittany's pale skin. "To try that again would be foolish."

Her attacker lifted her off her feet and rammed her once more causing the shelf to shake and dislodge a pile of dust. The voice continued,

"What are you doing here?"

Brittany could feel blood dribbling down her neck from the gouges she was receiving. She tried to concentrate; something about the voice was familiar,

"I'm looking for someone!." She choked.

"Who?"

"Sebastian."

The name enraged her assailant as the young vampire felt the stake dig painfully into her muscles and the hand at her neck shook her like a rag doll.

"No Credit, No Credit!" Horace cawed.

"Choose your next words very, very carefully. Why are you looking for the traitor?"

Brittany was no match in strength for who ever held her captive. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kurt coming up the hallway towards the front of the shop, engrossed in something in his arms,

"Britt, he has what we need but I think you would look stunning in this." He held up the beautiful sea green gown in front of him. "Look at the stitching… Britt?"

He peered round the dress, his eyes going wide. His mouth opened and shut like a fish before he breathed in shock,

"Lucinda?"

The grip on her neck loosened a little,

"Kurt?"

"No Credit, No Credit." Horace croaked, flapping his wings, unsettling another pile of dust to rain down on the vampires.

"Mako!" The little old man added, excitedly over Kurt's shoulder.

Brittany and Kurt glared at him.

"What?" He shrugged, "I didn't want to feel left out!"

Kurt laid the dress over the wooden counter asking, politely,

"Please, put her down?"

"Not until she tells me why you are looking for the traitor."

Brittany began to tremble. She had, had more than she could take. All she wanted was to find Santana and go home. She struggled to control her sniffs,

"He's holding my girlfriend hostage, I need to save her."

She felt a small body press up against her back and she caught a flash of blond on her periphery, Lucinda leant into her ear,

"Who are you?"

With her cheek still squashed into the wood, she mumbled,

"Brittany."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

The pressure on her neck immediately disappeared, dropping her back to the floor. Balling her fists, Brittany spun round in fury and landed two flat punches full force into the tiny chest sending Lucinda flying across the room. In one shift movement, she was raining down blows on the petite blond. Two slender hands gripped her wrists and in a whippet like movement, a small body was beneath her flipping her in the air on her back.

Brittany looked into familiar burning hazel eyes as she struggled to break free.

"Stop!" Lucinda commanded. "Stop!"

The young vampire thrashed trying to dislodge the other vampire from her torso. Lucinda slammed her wrists into the ground, yelling over Brittany's snarls,

"I know where Santana is!"

At the mention of her lovers name all, the fight left her and she broke into sobs of exhaustion and relief.

X

**Ps…. Just to let u know.. charlotte and holly are literally an evening behind the two little impish runaways… so never fear.. Oeeer **

**UNHOLY UNDEAD TRINITY! **


	31. Chapter 31

Wow, 100 follows… *does a little happy dance.*

It never ceases to amaze me how encouraging and supportive you all are, and how much you are enjoying this. I know it may seem like im waffling , or certain parts of it don't make sense and you are left wondering 'Why the hell is that there' but I'm attempting to lay down a few potential plot starts for a sequel, if I write one..

Thanks for all your reviews and faithfully following. It gives me a kickin the hole and reminds me, I am not the only one on this VV journey.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat. **

**x**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome. Italy. 1690._

X

When they arrived in Rome, they followed Lucinda's instructions, immediately heading to a safe house deep with in the streets. It would seem that even amongst the chaos her younger sibling had managed to find an ally.

Pulling into the courtyard, Charlotte and Holly had let out sighs if relief when they spotted the familiar travel wagon. It meant that the youngsters had been found and were in a somewhat safe pair of hands.

Holly had taken off immediately into the depths of the city to make her enquiries and the necessary announcements amongst the tiny phenomenal community who resided there, that this was a private matter of Dubois and if they had no part in what had occurred, they had nothing to fear.

It was a cleverly deployed tactic wrapped within a polite formality. The majority of the unnatural world had no wish to cross the Justice Keepers. If any iota of guilt lay at their door and they were smart, they would flee.

Charlotte was left to oversee the unloading of the carriages and setting the house to rights whilst she waited for the trio to return. She thanked her lucky stars that it had been Lucinda who found them. The thoughts of the youngster and the notary storming a nest by themselves was enough to make her quail and had given her sleepless nights.

Kurt was an amazing strategist in theory, putting it into practice, not so much and Brittany maybe powerful but from what Holly had told her, the youngling was nowhere near ready.

From what she had gleaned from Holly repeating Brittany's stories, Lucinda's letter and the information she had acquired on her own travels, she attempted to piece it all together as she unpacked the numerous trunks.

She always thought well when she had something to do with her hands. In her absence, the plot had thickened and Calan's words now made more sense. As the wise Bomherwald pack leader had said, somebody was playing a dangerous game of silly buggers and it would seem their opponent was not to be underestimated.

For a start, making Rome his seat of power had shown cunning, guile and fearlessness, as normally super natural beings avoided the Holy City for obvious reasons.

The little upstart also had an intimate working knowledge of the inner workings of The Houses, Council and protocols.

Sebastian had known that by setting Santana on a wave of destruction, making it look like a Rogue was loose; an exterminator would be set on their tail.

However, Holly had dispatched the wrong one.

She couldn't place why it would be so important as to _which_ exterminator was sent on the job but then she remembered he was keeping Santana hostage and it all became glaringly obvious what he wanted.

The devious little rat was after Brittany.

At first she couldn't figure out for the undead life of her what part her offspring had to play in his agenda, unless of course, he was aware of her abilities, but she couldn't see how as Brittany's abilities hadn't begun to manifest until a number of years after her rebirth.

She remembered becoming increasingly worried, when in Paris, she found Brittany toying with her victims and she had quickly nipped that particular cruelty in the bud.

As far as Charlotte knew, Brittany had not used or shown any outward sign of her abilities until the incident in Basque, which brought Holly and she to the conclusion that Sebastian had been following them for decades must have witnessed the exchange between the two girls, presenting him with the perfect opportunity to draw her offspring away.

Sanguine Law stated that an offspring could not leave their Maker within their green years unless the Maker willingly relinquished control or lost a challenge made by another.

Every vampire knew that to go up against a member of the Justice was a death sentence. Even if the challenger killed the Maker in question, he or she would be marked for the rest of their days, House Dubois would not stop until they were avenged.

So by a stroke of luck, Sebastian had been given another way, upon a silver platter.

He had thought himself safe, cocooned in the laws, but in his eagerness to play on a continental scale, she was sure he was behind the Methuselah incident but without definitive proof, House Dubois could not attack or accuse, .he had made one tiny mistake. His greatest asset was also be his downfall.

Sanguine Law also stated that who ever took first taste also had Blood Rights.

When the two girls had shared their kiss and Brittany had tasted her, albeit by accident, it had meant that the youngling had first Blood Rights. Brittany had not stated that she gave up her claim over the girl, neither had Sebastian offered her the opportunity.

Santana had never been his to claim.

It was a flimsy loophole, a technicality at best but it afforded Brittany and by default House Dubois the licence to enter and demand he hand over the girl with as little fuss as possible. Charlotte was certain that he would refuse meaning they could administer punishment as they saw fit.

Holly wanted it by the book and was quite happy to allow it all to play out in the guise of a minor blood dispute. For reasons she was unwilling to part as of yet, she had no wish for the Council to get involved.

However, Charlotte had no doubt that Sebastian did not know the full extent of Brittany's capabilities because if he did, he would have no wish to draw her upon himself.

If what Holly had told her was correct and he had been treating his offspring in the fashion that he had, she did not doubt that Brittany would not be seeking punishment, she would be seeking death.

Brittany may seem on the surface to be sweet and innocent, but Charlotte had witnessed first hand her vindictiveness and she knew that where Songbird was concerned, Brittany would be harsh and unrelenting.

Charlotte almost felt sorry for Sebastian.

As she continued to lay out the many scrolls and parchments on the table, she heard voices and a commotion down the hall. Suddenly her sister burst through the door, flinging herself into an armchair. As if she had never been away, Lucinda relaxed back, kicking the heels of her soft, brown leather boots on the low table. Reaching for a scroll, she inclined her head towards the door,

"I have something that belongs to you."

Charlotte quirked an eyebrow at her sister's rude behaviour,

"What? Not even a Hello?"

Lucinda shrugged, engrossing herself in the words of the scroll.

A huge, mangy brown and orange mutt bounded into the room, knocking Charlotte behind the knees before flopping itself in front of the roaring fire, its long black tongue lolling.

She turned to see her offspring standing sheepishly in the doorway, her partner in crime hovering over her shoulder. Charlotte didn't know where to start.. She wanted to yell at Lucinda, scold Brittany and beat Kurt to death with his own arm. Her eyes locked onto piercing blue glistening with guilt and shame. All the worry and fear she had been carrying for months broke away into sheer relief. She cleared the room scooping her offspring in her arms.

"Thank the lord your safe."

She heard Lucinda scoff. Brittany tearfully mumbled into her neck, hugging her back with ferocity.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But she's in trouble."

"I know, I know," Charlotte cooed, "You here now, that's all that matters." She cupped her offspring's face with a worried mother's intensity, "Don't you ever do that again, do you hear." She shook her face for emphasis, "Don't ever do that again, the pair of you! I was worried sick.. "

She held out her other arm beckoning the young man over, whom bashfully slid himself under Charlottes arm, relaxing into her as he hugged Brittany with his other. Charlotte kissed them both on the crown, squeezing both youngsters tight. She mumbled into the young man's hair, giving an extra squeeze,

"Thank you."

As Brittany continued to snuffle against her, Charlotte threw over her shoulder,

"Thank you Lucinda."

The dainty blond gave a non committal wave of her hand, never looking for her reading, as if bored of such emotional displays,

"Where's Holly?"

The question boiled Charlotte's blood. Still holding the children, she replied, curtly,

"She's out."

Letting go of the younglings, she busied herself fixing them a drink. Her feelings towards her sister and them sharing a maker confused her at the best of times and jealousy never failed to rear its ugly head when in the presence of her younger sibling. She attempted to keep calm but her voice wavered,

"Of course you would ask that question. Not even hello to me but you make sure to ask for her."

Lucinda took the goblet from her white knuckled grasp, replying flippantly,

"Jesus Charlie, calm down, I told you, it was a one time thing and meant nothing."

Charlotte growled, glaring daggers at her siblings back.

Of course the first thing Lucinda would do when she found the trunks would be to find her _war making_ uniform as she called it and of course Holly would have packed it. It was Holly's favourite outfit on her.

It consisted of supple dark leather boots that came to her mid calf, tight white breeches, a deep claret, figure-hugging tunic over a light, white shirt, a brown leather belt tied it at the waist. Charlotte did not miss the crude leather gauntlets at her wrists. She shot her sidelong glances as she handed to two goblets full of warm liquid to the youngsters, who sat watching the interaction intently.

A sudden rotten smell in gulfed the room and the brown and orange mutt shifted. Kurt coughed and Lucinda pulled a face, crinkling her nose, making to open one of the shutters.

Charlotte rested against the wall, in an attempt to distract her self from the anger that simmered beneath her skin, addressed the trio,

"Would some one like to tell what the _hell_ is that!"

The large, motley creature, lifted hits head, staring at her with almost human, runny eyes. Its long orange and brown mottled fur was matted in places. It was missing half an ear whilst the other seemed too large and stood to attention. It sneezed through its crusty nose before dismissing Charlotte and returning back to sleep.

Brittany plopped herself down beside the mutt and began stroking its tummy. It kicked it hind leg and Charlotte was almost certain, it smiled. Her eyes flickered between the guilty look of Kurt and Lucinda's pointed stare of disgust at the scene before her. She looked back at the dog whose shape suddenly struck her as oddly familiar; it was without a doubt watching her. It winked.

"Brittany!" She demanded. "Step away from it, this instant!"

Brittany looked up, crescent fallen.

"Why!"

Charlotte rounded ion her sister,

"Lucinda, how could you!"

"Hey don't look at me, they already bought it by the time I found them!"

"Brittany!" Charlotte screeched, "Stop rubbing its tummy at least!"

She rolled up a scroll and whacked it across the nose.

"You ought to know better, taking advantage of young girls!"

It at least had the gumption to look guilty.

Brittany covered it's ears, pursuing her lips and petulantly frowning.

"Leave Bramble alone. He's going to help us find Santana."

Charlotte went to grab it by the scruff of the neck.

"I bet he is! And I bet he can't wait to curl up on the bed with you both."

It quickly scooted behind Brittany, resting its crusty snout on the young blond's shoulder, peering at the older vampire through her hair letting out a pathetic whine.

Charlotte waved the scroll at the creature, swatting at him.

"Don't you start that crap with me! I know what you are."

Kurt hid his guffaws in his hand whilst Lucinda sucked in her lips, screwing up her face with the effort of holding back her laughs as Brittany gave her Dam a look that wondered if she had lost her marbles.

"Brittany," Charlotte began, gently, shooting small glares at the other vampires, who pretended not to listen. "Ahem. Bramble, if that's what you insist on calling him. Bramble is a snuffer."

Brittany brightened, stroking her fingers through his thick fur, trying to work out some of the mats,

"I know! Kurt told me!"

Charlotte made a mental note to have words with the young notary later, she continued,

"Little one, a snuffer is a Versipellis that never made it back after its first moon. That means after its first change, something went wrong." She turned to Kurt, "Please tell me it's a true born?"

Kurt shrugged,

"Mako didn't know. It was sold to him from a circus."

Charlotte rubbed her forehead,

"So for all we know it could be a trapped adolescent or a leery old man?"

"He's a werewolf?" Brittany asked, smiling broadly.

"Yes!"

"So I can talk to him and he'll understand me? Cool!"

"No Brittany, not cool. It means he's a pervert!"

Brambles hackles rose slightly and he let out a high-pitched whine, darting from the room, he hovered in the doorway before taking off into the house.

Holly spun in the entrance in confusion, a roll of long leather under her arm. She stopped when she saw the occupants of the room. Her face flickered into a hint of a smile and then a forced frown. Stalking into the room, her hand whipped out clipping Kurt around the ear.

"It was my fault.." Brittany began.

Holly snapped,

"I don't care whose fault it is." She rounded on the young man, giving him another clip for good measure. "Kurt you ought to have known better!"

The young blond sank back down to the ground, her head bowed. Holly began to yell,

"You bloody idiots! You could have gotten yourselves killed. This place is crawling with Crusaders. What were you thinking?"

"We're sorry!" The two youngsters mumbled.

Charlotte caught how Lucinda bounced in her seat with barely concealed excitement, her hazel eyes watching Holly's every lithe and graceful move. Their Dam placed the long leather roll on the table, before standing up smiling broadly and held out her arms,

"Lucinda come here to me, it's been too long."

Like an excited child, Lucinda burst from her seat and into her Maker's arms with such enthusiasm, she knocked them both back by a few metres. Holly giggled at her. Lucinda planted kisses all over Holly's face, as she whimpered,

"I missed you so much. Did you miss me Nana?"

At the use of her pet name for her Dam slipping from her sister's lips, Charlotte stomach twisted and she felt as if a stake had been twisted into her heart. She took a deep breath, not realising the metal goblet in her hand began to bend under her grasp.

Holly kissed Lucinda chastely on the lips,

"Everyday my little warrior!"

Lucinda buried herself further into Holly's embrace and Charlotte saw her hands stroke lazily up and down her Makers back. Charlotte stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her with such force the whole wall shook.

'Every god damn time!'

X

**Ps, this is only the first half ladies and gents. I just wanted this out to you.. The majority of the second half is written up on paper. So im off to get a bite to eat and hopefully then ill make a start on transferring it over n figuring out the rest of it.. If all goes well and I don't have a brain fart, ill get it out to u this evening or in the morning . **


	32. Chapter 32

**Dear SB Guest… **You were wondering what Holly and Charlotte's ship name would be and as **Leggofmyeggo** reviewed the chapter first and offered **Cholly **, I think I'll stick with that.

Yeah Bramble's a bit creepy but he isn't all that bad.

Their human and canine tendencies mixing, the longer a snuffer is in wolf form the more like a domesticated dog they become.

Snuffers, or their alternate form, Wolfmen, ….(bitten, that go through their First moon, transform to biped form, but their mind is trapped in Wolf mindset, Charlie was on the trail of a Wolfman claim when she came across Brittany) …..are not known for surviving very long as they tend to go a little crazy and eat folk, so Bramble cant be all that bad if he's managed to get this far.. He's basically a super smart dog, but there's no way Charlotte's going to allow him to sleep in the bedroom, no matter how much Britt pouts, I'm sure Santana would suss him out and beat him with a slipper if he tried being a creeper..

Btw what is it with you lot and loving jealous vampires?

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome. 1690. Safe House. _

X

Not wishing to witness the reunion between her Dam and her sister, Charlotte had taken herself off to another room. In a bid to keep calm and not allow her temper get the better of her she focused on the very last and most precious trunk of all, transferring the contents and hanging it with care

Satisfied, she took a step back to admire the outfit.

The waistcoat truly was a masterpiece. It was made of soft, supple leather in a deep crimson hue. Her fingers traced the painstakingly crafted gold stitched leaves and flowers that followed the contours of the waistcoats shape. They curved round into the pattern of a branch and rising up into a heavily detailed Songbird, its mouth open as if singing, covering the left breast.

When she had commissioned it, she had thought it would be a nice touch.

The waistcoat buttoned off centre, from right to left with pairs of gold buttons, each engraved with the coat of arms of House Dubois. The doublet led up to a collar that gently curved over and would come to rest just under the hairline at her nuque. If she so pleased she would be able to put down the collar, turning it into wide lapels.

Charlotte felt the curved, lightweight metal, concealed in the leather, just beneath the Songbird, where her offspring's heart would lay. It would deflect 90% of stakes, shattering them on impact.

She had to give her sister credit for that design idea. Lucinda took her exterminator duties very seriously, in fact she took everything seriously, including Maker stealing. Charlotte shook her head, internally chastising herself.

Now was not the time, they had more important things to be dealing with and there was no place for childish behaviours. She needed to keep her focus.

She slid the fine, light material of the shirt into the waistcoat. It was an off white, with a light hue of yellow running through it. It had an inch high collar to accommodate the waistcoat, small ruffles at the shoulder that tapered down into tight sleeves at the wrist, over which would sit two leather gauntlets.

The breeches were of the same colour, the material a little heavier. They pinched in at the waist, with a leather belt, becoming looser as they came down the leg, where they would tuck into leather boots made of the same type and colour leather as the waistcoat, just above her mid calf. The breeches had enough give in them that she could perform a roundhouse kick if need be.

The whole outfit would be topped off with a deep, midnight blue, fitted justacourps with pockets and tails.

Her offspring would cut a mighty fine sight, or as Kurt would put it, simply dashing.

She heard the door click and felt someone enter.

"Whose warmaker is that?" She heard her sister ask softly.

Charlotte swallowed, the familiar scent of lilies lingering as she continued to pick at imaginary bits of fluff on the dinner jacket. Without turning, she replied,

"Brittany's"

"She'll make a girl weak at the knees."

Charlotte snarled over her shoulder,

"Don't even think about it!"

Lucinda's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she held up her hands, palms out,

"Ok! Ok! I was only joking. The way she bangs on about Santana it's obvious who she's destined to." Turning she began to inspect the array of weapons on the table, shooting her older sister sidelong glances, adding, "She's fast you know, too fast in fact. There was one night, I almost had her, and then she disappeared." She picked up a stake, twirling it in her fingers, "There's no way a greenhorn should be able out run me."

"What?" Charlotte mock gasped, "Lucinda Fabray unable to finish a job? Well I never thought I'd see the day."

Lucinda bit back,

"I can make an exception, just this once!"

Charlotte slipped the three gold buttons through their respective holes. She set her jaw, giving a nasty low blow,

"And run the risk of no longer being Holly's Little Miss Perfect?"

Lucinda tossed the stake on the table, muttering,

"I'm not a complete heartless bitch. I owe Santana my life."

Charlotte kept her sister in her peripheries, watching as Lucinda continued to glean over the arsenal on the table she would no doubt refer to as 'Toys'.

An unspoken, 'Let it go' hung in the air.

She shouldn't feel like this towards her but it was hard when her younger sibling went out of her way to antagonise her. Literally, from their natural birth to their undead existence, they were all the other had. They were the best of friends and fiercely protective of each other as a rule but it was as if being around Holly drove a wedge between them.

No matter how much Lucinda outwardly assured her that it was nothing between her and her maker, Charlotte knew Lucinda was not being entirely honest. Sure, every offspring was like a child at Christmas around their Maker, especially after time apart but it was the way Lucinda's eyes lingered or how she would shoot Charlotte dark glances that made it out to be so much more.

Normally a Maker would only have one green offspring at a time, if they had two, for what ever reason, they would normally share with each other quite happily, for the most part, but with them being real life siblings it had caused complications. They could have thrown all decorum out of the window of course but none of them had any desire to stoop so low, in fact, the suggestion had never arisen.

Charlotte was no longer in that virginmoon phase and her feelings towards Holly had changed into something else but they still ran deep. Over the centuries, she had many companions she would go as far as to call lovers, but Holly was her first and everyone and their uncle knew, you never forgot your first.

None of it seemed to matter to Lucinda who always seemed so lackadaisical when it came to affairs of the heart. Fiercely independent, her younger sibling lived for the hunt and was never happier when she had fresh orders and was trailing across the countryside in hot pursuit.

Maybe their real life mother had been right and Charlotte _was_ a little too sensitive for her own good?

Biting on her bottom lip, the older vampire let out a huff. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she asked, in a strangled voice,

"Where is Brittany?"

Lucinda looked up distractedly from the ornately carved box she was attempting to pry open,

"She's washing the dog."

Giving one last flick at the jacket, Charlotte turned,

"I can't believe you allowed her to keep it. I'm surprised you didn't tear it's throat out on sight."

Lucinda dropped the box back on the table,

"He could have his uses yet. There are parts of the nest I do not know." She began rummaging through doublets and vests. Pulling out a beautifully crafted gauntlet, she exclaimed, "I've been looking for these for decades! Where did you find them?"

Charlotte chuckled,

"Beneath the heap of mess you call a room."

Lucinda began to unbuckle the crude in comparison gauntlets at her wrists, replying cheekily,

"That's what thralls are for!"

"Lucinda!" Charlotte chastised, "They are not slaves!"

"You say potato, I say patatoe.!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes at her sister. She watched as Lucinda fitted her new gauntlets, giving an experimental flick of her wrists. Two perfectly carved stakes popped out, the silver tips glinting wickedly in the lantern light. The younger blond gave a satisfied smirk before trying to slide them back in by using the table. Charlotte continued to observe as her sister tried numerous positions in order to re sheath them. She scoffed,

"Didn't think that through, did you?"

Lucinda shot her a glare as she bent back her hand.

"Its not my fault the button is broken." She muttered to herself, "Now I know why I left them."

Gingerly she went to push in the stake with her fingertip. She yet out a little yelp as it burned. Charlotte took a step towards her, saying affectionately,

"Here. Let me."

Turning the other girl's slight wrist, she gripped the stake just under the tip, sliding them back until she heard the tell tale click. She was suddenly over come with such fierce love, no matter what transpired between them, all she cared was that her sibling was safe. She pulled the smaller girl into a bone-crushing hug,

"I thought I had lost you."

The dainty blond returned the hug, sinking into her older sister,

"I didn't think I would ever see you again."

The older vampire murmured into ash blond hair,

"I looked every where for you. I even went to Calan."

Lucinda crinkled her small nose in disgust, giving a mock shudder,

"Eww! Nasty!"

They stood for a few moments, enjoying the safety and comfort of each other before Lucinda wriggled out of her grasp. They were never one for showing their feelings. Charlotte flicked the ends of the short, choppy blond hair that came to Lucinda's jawline,

"It suits you!"

Lucinda gave her a smug, preening smirk,

"It does, doesn't it?"

Lucinda began replacing the broken gauntlets with the others.

"Charlotte," She began, "What exactly is Brittany? I got the distinct feeling that if I wasn't wearing a Velysian stone, she would have boggled me!"

Charlotte quickly explained as Lucinda furrowed her brow, drinking it all in.

If there was one thing Lucinda hated, it was being unprepared. She was a meticulous planner even her plans had plans. Before going on a retrieval or a termination, she would spend evenings locked in the library researching, making sure she had all the information and the weapons she might need.

She would stalk her quarry, sometimes for weeks, learning their habits and behaviours before she would strike.

She left no stone unturned.

Lucinda Fabray hated to lose. Sometimes real life traits carried over only to become magnified. On the rare occasion she did, she had a tendency to fly into a raging hissy fit, stewing for months and generally making everyone around her miserable.

It was now a strictly enforced rule in House Dubois that Lucinda was not allowed play any type of board game.

Holly couldn't keep up with the decorating.

Charlotte's curiosity got the better of her,

"How on earth did you find a Velysian stone, in Rome of all places?"

Lucinda gave her a knowing glance,

"I have my ways."

Velysian stones where highly coveted and members of the phenomenal community had been known to kill for them. It was the only sure fire way to protect oneself from telepaths, and now, what ever Brittany would be classed as.

"Can I see?"

Lucinda peeled back the collar of her tunic and shirt to reveal a jade green brooch on the inside. Charlotte instinctively reached out. Lucinda took a step back, waving her finger,

"Naa haa, you can look but don't touch!"

"There you are." Holly announced as she entered the room with numerous scrolls and parchments in her arms, "Give us a hand would you."

The two sisters immediately began clearing a space, removing weapons and books onto the nearby chairs. Noticing the change in atmosphere between the two, Holly teased,

"Kissed and made up, did we?"

The siblings chuckled. Lucinda offered,

"You know we can't stay mad at each other for long."

Holly dumped the contents of her arms onto the empty tables,

"Thank Methuselah. I do not think I could handle a repeat of your green years. It was so exhausting."

She bumped Charlotte with her hip, giving her a wink. Their Dam suddenly became serious,

"Now Lucinda, I have been going over the drawings of The Play House as you like to call it and Petoire has kindly added what he knows." She touched Lucinda's shoulder, "Good call with the terms you offered him by the way. He seems like a nice young man that strayed off the beaten path, if he sticks by his word I see no trouble for him in the future."

Lucinda snorted,

"Not from our kind, anyways."

Holly continued,

"With the charms and the passageways and if the amount of residents are correct, we can't take this on our own. We are going to need help. Lyubitshka has offered to help with the charms, Petoire cannot remove."

Charlotte cut in,

"The Bohmerwald are sending reinforcements. They have an invested interest in this particular case and shall arrive in matter of days."

Holly grinned in satisfaction, clapping and rubbing her hands together,

"Excellent! You may want to tell Brittany to keep that decrepit creature out of the way."

The two sisters exchanged a dubious look. Holly glanced between the two before returning to study the make shift schematics, adding offhandedly,

"What? Did you not think I would not notice, as soon as it took off I knew what it was."

"She can keep it?" Charlotte asked in disbelief.

Holly sighed,

"For some reason when it comes to that girl, I find myself bending the rules. If she trains it and it behaves, I do not see why she cannot keep it. Make sure she understands that at the first sign of trouble, I won't hesitate to snap its neck." Their flaxen Dam looked over her shoulder, "Great choice for the outfit, she will look splendid." She returned to the parchments and scrolls, bending over, leaning on her palms on the table, "Lucinda, show me how you think it would be best to proceed."

Charlotte licked her lips, there was something about Holly in business mode that set her on fire. They never really indulged in each other that often but always on the evenings of a battle or a job. It was as if Charlotte could not help herself when Holly began to wield that in charge attitude.

Oblivious, Lucinda leant her elbows on the table, pointing out with a tip of a stake.

"Here and here would be the easiest. The Versipelli should enter via the sewers and I was thinking we could slip Kurt in as a distraction being Sebastian leans towards the pretty boy look. We could send him in as disgruntled Rogue hiding from Charlotte."

Holly looked around the room,

"Speaking of which, where the hell is my strategist when I need him? Charlotte, would you be so kind as to fetch him?"

Charlotte trailed her hand lightly up Holly's back to gain her attention. She kissed her Dam behind the ear, giving a little nip,

"Later!" She breathed.

Holly playfully tapped her backside whilst Lucinda remained engrossed, studying the plans. Charlotte smiled to herself. Her sister never ceased to amaze her. It would seem the younger Fabray's true love, really was the hunt..

"Would this not be better?"

"No! Its way to obvious!"

She left the two blonds to argue over their best course of action.

X

Making her way through the house, Charlotte followed the sounds of laughing, squeals and the odd bark, out through an open door that led to a concealed courtyard. She leaned against the stone lintel committing the cute domestic scene before her to memory.

What they were about to face had the potential to turn ugly. She wondered if her offspring was truly ready for the brutal carnage that would no doubt unfold. Charlotte had learned from experience that a fight of this magnitude carried casualties and not all loved ones survived.

Bramble was sat in a stone trough beneath a water pump looking like he was having the time of his life as Brittany, with rolled up sleeves, scrubbed his chest and Kurt was attempting to clip some of his matted fur with shears.

Charlotte shot the wolf a stern glare and he returned it with an expression, that she was sure if he could, would be a shrug.

She would have to have words with the youngling as to what was appropriate if she was going to insist on keeping him.

"Whose a good boy?" Brittany cajoled, giving him and extra hard scrub, "Whose a good boy?"

Bramble thumped his tail, sending up a spray of water causing Kurt to let out a girlish squeal. The mutt hooded his eyes and lolled his tongue in enjoyment. Standing up, Brittany beckoned the trapped Versipellis, who leapt from the trough, immediately rubbing himself against the already sodden notary.

"Britt!" Kurt whined, "He's doing it on purpose!"

"No he's not!" The playful blond rubbed the mutts head from side to side, "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

The wolf gave a look as if it had been insulted.

"See!" Brittany exclaimed.

Charlotte had to hand it to the mutt.

"Kurt, Holly wants you."

The young man almost looked relieved as he handed the shears to his companion. He swiped at his soaked attire before giving up once he realised his efforts where in vain.

Stepping to one side, Charlotte allowed the young man to pass before approaching her offspring. Bramble watched her warily. She took the shears from Brittany's unresisting hands. Soaked and covered in dirt, Brittany almost looked happy but her anguish and worry rolled off her in waves.

Charlotte began clipping the thick fur. Bramble moved away, curling his top lip. The older vampire waved the shears at him,

"I swear, if you don't stand still I'll chop your other ear off!"

The mutt begrudgingly stood to attention. Continuing to cut at the mats, every now and again giving a little tug, she addressed her offspring, affectionately,

"Brittany, I know how you worry for her." She was immediately met with eyes that reminded her of tempestuous waters, "As soon as the Bomherwald's arrive, we shall go get her. I promise."

Brittany's eyes flickered and the corners of her mouth turned down as she drew her fingers through Bramble's heavy, damp fur. Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat. Her precious child looked so broken. She inquired, softly, almost afraid of the answer,

"How is she?"

Brittany sucked in her top lip, struggling with herself. Her eyes glistened and her fingers ceased to move as she whispered, forlornly,

"I cant feel her."

Charlotte crouched down, level to the youngster. Taking her chin, she comfortingly tried to reassure her,

"She is strong Brittany. By what Lucinda says, very strong. She will know you are near and that you will be together soon."

Brittany sniffed, nodding and wiping her nose with the back of her hand.,

"It's just.." She began before sinking into her thoughts and staring at the ground.

Charlotte caught the flicker of affection in the big orange eyes. The mangy mutt nuzzled Brittany's face with his wet nose. He snorted in her ear. Brittany pushed him away. He leant against her, repeating the snort. Brittany let out a high-pitched giggle,

"Stop! It tickles."

Charlotte tugged lightly on his ear giving him an approving smile.

Lucinda was right; the little creeper may have his uses yet.

X

**Ps. Next chap… Britt is going on reconnaissance. Its all hotting up! **


	33. Chapter 33

**Dear Guest, who was worried that Britt cant feel Songbird at the moment. ** She's unable to contact Britt as she is unable to sleep or been unconscious.

I normally don't do this but, whilst I was writing this on paper in the coffee shop I frequent I was blaring Fat boy slim feat Leftfield Flat out ..(is Bird of prey remixed with phat planet) through my beats.

It really got my juices going.. n I was imagining the second part of this chap. Charlotte, rainy courtyard wolf battles)

Anyway.. Hope u enjoy.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat. **

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome. 1690. The Play House._

X

Gargantuan droplets thundered down on the deserted square as Brittany huddled further into the recesses of a deep archway, grateful for the high collar of her waistcoat and jacket and the protection from the elements that it afforded her.

Gargoyles vomited the overflow on to the pavings below, the excess running in swift torrents along the grooves of the cobbles disappearing into sporadic grates at the curbs.

Brittany spared a thought to the Bohmerwald pack members beneath her very soles, currently creeping through the sewers

There was a brief flash and the night sky rumbled.

Lucinda had imparted that tonight would the perfect time to put their plan into action, as the Versipelli's sense of smell would be dulled due to the lack of scent and there would be fewer patrons willing to brave the weather for their indulgences.

Holly wanted as few humans caught in the cross fire as possible. Complicated charms had been put in place in order to keep from outside influences knowing what was occurring within the buildings and it's outlying courtyards.

The air was electrified with anticipation, causing the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end as she continued to watch the stormy skies. The flame bowls at the corners of The Play House walls dipped and gutted in the driving wind. Somewhere a shutter banged repeatedly.

She rolled her shoulders to alleviate the tension and took a neat step back to avoid the splash as the downspout on the corner she stood sentinel gushed into the street. She flexed her kidskin-clad knuckles, enjoying the squeak of its freshness.

Lucinda materialised behind her from the shadows of the tunnelled archway. She had swapped her white breeches and shirt, replacing them with dark brown ones. Over her head and shoulders sat a dark brown cowl that masked her features, leaving only below the nose visible.

"Kurt, Petoire and Bramble are inside." She peered past Brittany's shoulder into the sweeping square, "How are you holding up?"

Brittany swallowed, keeping the waver from her voice not wishing to show the nerves that coiled in her stomach,

"I'm good."

Lucinda added, kindly,

"Just remember you're training and you'll do fine."

Brittany nodded in response.

Whilst waiting for the Wolves to arrive and in case her abilities failed her for whatever reason, Lucinda had taken it upon herself to teach the youngling combat moves. Brittany had been a fast learner and was now better equipped to deal with a brawl.

Lucinda continued, her voice grave as she fiddled with the stake laden harnesses at her own thighs,

"Focus on finding Santana, leave the rest to us. If you find yourself in a situation you can't handle call for one of us."

Brittany tugged absent-mindedly at the new crimson gauntlets at her wrists. She had felt proud when Holly had presented them to her, announcing she was now an official Justice Keeper giving her licence to pass sentence and administer punishment. She asked, timidly,

"Does she ever talk about me?"

Brittany caught a twinkle of a fang in the overhead flash of lightening as Lucinda smirked. The smaller blonde gave a tiny cough full of mirth as she peered up at the sky from beneath the over hang of the arch,

"Errrmm… She may have mentioned you once or twice. Quite loudly actually."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Lucinda could answer, the call of 'No credit. No credit' rang out across the night.

"That's our signal."

Lucinda held a gloved fist out to Brittany, waiting for the taller blond to copy her. When she did, Lucinda banged their knuckles together.

"Let's do this."

The waif like vampire kept low and near to the wall of the villa, taking in the 50 foot gap between it and the towering parallel wall of the Play House. Stopping, she leapt into the air, grasping the windowsill ten feet above her and with eye blinking speed powered herself up, mid air for a hair raising moment, before her toes caught the windowsill lip, where her fingers had been seconds before.

Brittany watched as the agile vampire repeated it, working her way to the third floor. She manoeuvred herself round with practised ease facing out towards The Play House. The Justice Keeper leapt out gripping a leaning flagpole, gracefully flipping herself round before letting go and landing in a neat crouch on the far wall. She scurried along the top of the stonework, concealing herself with in the dark shadows of the flame bowl.

At the base of the villa wall, Brittany bounced from the ball of one foot to the other, shaking herself out. She tugged the lapels of her jacket and waistcoat, steeling her nerves, going through the motions of exhaling,

"Here goes."

She made the first leap, working her fingers into the tiny crevices no human could manage. She used the tips of her toes up the windowsill's sides.

Her progress was much slower than her battle mates. Preparing for the third and final jump, she copied Lucinda's movements, giving a flick of her wrists and powering herself up. The tips of her toes slipped and the square lurched up to meet her. She flicked her wrist, activating the gauntlet, driving the stake into the fragile mortar.

She swung precariously, her feet scrabbling to find purchase against the slippy brickwork. Her tendons and muscles screamed from the strain and she thanked her vampire strength when she dug her finger into a tiny gap.

The mechanisms of the gauntlet buckled under the weight, snapping the stake as her the fingers of her other hand dug deeper in between the stones dislodging a spray of pebbles and dust into the street below.

Slowly turning herself round, Brittany gauged the distance to the other wall, she thought back to her dreamscape, frolicking in the forest in Santana.

She could do this. It wasn't that far.

Curling her toes round the lip of the windows lintel, she bunched her thighs. Using the lip as leverage and arms out stretched she fired herself out across the gaping awning. A wave of relief ran through her as her fingers wrapped around the slender metal pole. She felt it bend under her weight. Not wishing to show off or risk a fall, she allowed the momentum to carry her through. She landed on the Play House wall, pin wheeling for a split second before throwing herself flat on to the rough, wide edge.

Not wishing to be seen, she crawled on her belly to where she knew Lucinda waited.

She was greeted with a small smile and a whispered,

"Not bad, for a green horn."

They waited a moment, their backs pressed into the stone carving that held the large flame bowl aloft. A large black crow eyed them benevolently. It cawed before flapping it's wings and disappearing into the murky night.

The sky rumbled and the rain continued to fall as if the heavens themselves had burst its banks. Hair plastered to her face and soaked to the bone, Brittany peered over her shoulder into the courtyard far below.

A few Versipellis walked back and forth as if enjoying the downpour. She caught the flicker of darker shadows flitting across the rooftop far over the other side of the courtyard, heralding Charlotte and Vargo's arrival.

Lucinda silently signalled for her to follow when the coast was clear.

Holding her dagger sheath so as not to jingle, the lithe Justice Keeper took off, low and swiftly along the edge of the wall, jumping onto a small roof. Brittany watched in awe as Lucinda, with her left leg under her for balance and her right extended, slid down the roof tiles, out over the edge before agilely twisting in mid air, catching the lip of the roof and suddenly disappearing from view.

Brittany followed, cautiously making her way down the slick surface of the terracotta tiles, not wanting a repeat of the villa windowsill. She crouched on the lip of the roof. Spying the minute stone gutter, she hooked her fingers in it, twisting herself and swinging through an open window underneath.

She landed heavily, throwing herself into a roll, coming to rest against the far wall. A number of thralls huddled in the corner, moaning and drooling in alarm.

Lucinda set to work, swiftly slitting their throats, laying them gently in a heap. Catching Brittany's expression as she cleaned her dagger on her tunic, she murmured stating,

"Don't feel sorry for them. It's better this way, they will only suffer without their master."

Brittany picked herself up, nodding in understanding, fixing it in her mind as a release not a punishment.

Without a master to take care of them, they would only wither away, dying a slow and painful death. They didn't deserve to be caught in the midst of a fight that did not concern them but they were casualties of war and at least had received a good clean death.

She whispered a small prayer as Lucinda began to inspect the room.

There came a resounding boom and the small room shook slightly, followed by another in quick succession.

They could not be mistaken for thunder.

Lucinda hurried to the door. Yells, shouts and feet thundered down the hallway outside. The ash blond gripped Brittany's lapel pulling her forward,

"You memorised the schematics?"

"Yes." Brittany breathed.

"This is the closest we could get. Go left out of here, down the corridor, past the fish fountain. There's a large black studded door. Down there is The Pits. That's where she will be."

There was another explosion. Brittany flinched. Ignoring it, Lucinda continued,

"Collect her and get out. Do you understand? Stop for nothing!"

Brittany nodded as Lucinda clutched her dagger and reached for the door handle.

The youngster realised this could be the very last time she might ever she the haughty vampire Santana classed as a friend. She could not convey all the gratitude she felt towards her. Without Lucinda's help they would not have been able to locate or get into the building never mind make an attempt at saving her lover.

She tugged on her elder's tunic, causing her to turn. Brittany hugged her, the slender vampire stiffened in her arms.

"Thank you Lucy."

Lucinda wriggled in embarrassment, growling,

"Don't thank me just yet."

Ripping open the door, she jumped into the corridor, waving Brittany through. Nerves got the better of her for a second, freezing her to the spot. Lucinda yanked her, changing it to a shove down the hallway, shouting with urgency,

"Go!"

Brittany came to her senses. Leaving her friend behind, she took to her heel, bolting off along the dark and deserted passageway off in the direction of The Pits and hopefully Santana.

X

**Ps Ninja Lucinda is soooo much fun!. **


	34. Chapter 34

Hey Ho folks.. Hows it going?

Ya all hate me don't ya, for all the teasy updates. But it's a story that's wishes to be told.

Action would not really be my forte, so I am struggling to write this. Gimme dialogue any day of the week. Conversations, I make them dance!

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat. **

x

VAMP VERSE

X

_Rome. 1690. The Play House. _

X

At the call of Horace, Charlotte and her comrades followed Lucinda's and Holly's carefully laid out plan, slipping down into the courtyard and dispatching the Veripellis that stood guard.

The first explosion was to spread confusion amongst The Play House residents, signalling that Holly and the Bohmerwald pack were making their way through the sewers and Charlotte and her battle mates were to conceal themselves behind the numerous pillars and columns that bordered the square.

The storm over head continued to rage. Hanging baskets squeaked on their fixtures, caught in the strong winds and occasionally a splash could be heard as they tipped due to the extra weight.

A heavily accented voice from within the recesses of the column next to her, asked,

"Me Cherie, are you ready?"

It had been centuries since she had taken part in a fight of this magnitude, the last had been during the uprising of Vlad. Charlotte despised the chaos of battles, much preferring to work on a one to one basis were it was much more neat and precise.

Peering round the edge of the stonework, she caught the a deeper darkness shifting behind the other columns, as she replied,

"I much prefer politics and discussion. I tend to leave the blood letting to my younger sibling."

She heard the distinctive ring of metal being un sheathed as the voice continued, sagely,

"Sometimes violence is a necessary course of action and the only thing our kind tend to understand."

Charlotte had been elated when Vargo had arrived, bringing with him reinforcements who all swore an oath that if questioned by the Council, they were here to exact vengeance upon those that had massacred Sophia and her clan. Many of them called Sophia friend and had felt the loss keenly.

The Bohmerwald pack members of Puck, Charn, Loren and her father Orin and a few others had arrived as expected but the appearance of Babel, in particular, had surprised her. She had felt their introduction had failed miserably and now found that maybe she had been too quick to judge the Wolf. However, she was still at a loss as to his motives.

She gave the Moor, bare chested, clad in a dark blue turban and matching pants, a quizzical look.

"Is that why you are here? For the violence?"

He smiled at her, his black skin making him barely distinguishable but bright orange eyes shone like beacons in the gloom,

"No, Cherie. Before I was bitten, I witnessed enough violence to last me a lifetime and into the next. As an Elder, I have duties to perform. Defending my packs honour and territories is one of them. The trespassers must be brought to heel for their disrespect and insolence. We cannot be seen to be weak or other packs shall get ideas."

The second explosion rounded off, heralding the diversion, that was to give her sister and offspring time to locate Santana.

As instructed, Charlotte and the others waited, for her Dam to draw the Bastian occupants out to the yard. From the veranda above, she could hear shocked yells and feet thundering down the passageway.

Babel unsheathed his second sword. She unsheathed her own, enjoying how the heavy gilded handle felt familiar in her hand, she teased,

"I thought your kind preferred to get down and dirty with your Wolf given gifts?"

The black Versipellis gave his weapons an experimental swing,

"I was a soldier before I was bitten. I find in these situations biped form suits me best." He gave the thick, red thread on his arm a flick, "Try to remember this eh? If I remember correctly House Dubois have a tendency to go a little berserk on the battle field."

She let out a chuckle.

"Again, that would be my sister."

When Brittany had brought up the question of identification between them and the Playhouse clan, Kurt had come up with the in genius idea of tying or braiding red thread into fur, hair or on a body part.

A myriad of snarls and howls alerted them to the arrival of the Play House occupants. They stood stunned for a few moments, confused at the emptiness before they sniffed the air and began to transform. Babel chuckled darkly,

"No, I distinctly remember it being you!"

Before she could reply, he rolled round the pillar letting out a mighty battle roar.

Gripping her sword, she exhaled, her mind flickering to the oddity that it had been centuries since all factions of the phenomenal community had banded together and at the centre of it all was two destined younglings.

It was something worth fight for.

Bunching her muscles, she raised her own weapon before rolling round the column and charging into the fray.

X

As the thunder rolled and the sky continued to break the sounds of metal upon metal rang out echoing off the walls. Charlotte was glad of the silence charms. Screams of agony mingled in with snarls and shouts.

Her feet skittered across the slick pavings as she grappled with a hissing vampire. Her opponent was fast but inexperienced. With a grunt, Charlotte upper cutted her, causing the youngsters head to snap back. She spun, bringing up her curved Turkish sword across the prone torso, eviscerating her opponent. The youngling's face flickered with confusion grappling at its innards, attempting to hold them. Realisation dawned as its skin and intestines began to char and melt.

Charlotte brought the pommel of her sword over her arm, caving the vampire's skull where it sank, twitching into the dirt.

She wiped the excess water and blood out of her eyes with her forearm, taking a moment to observe the scene around her.

A murder of crows descended upon a middle-aged man who flailed and swatted throwing charms of green smoke in a futile attempt to defend himself from the onslaught of gouging beaks and talons. He fell to his knees as the creatures tore his flesh, falling face first into the loam. The crows cawed and swirled, Lyubitshka materialising from the middle of them.

Bohmerwald Versipelli and Play House Versipelli, in various forms, snapped and tore at one another. Mystics threw charms, sending up flashes of blinding colour and acrid, dense smoke into the square making visibility difficult. Thralls fell where they stood, caught in the cross fire, whilst some huddled against the walls, quaking in abject fear.

Bodies lay strewn on the floor, crimson merging into the divlets of water, churning the soil underfoot to a murky dark brown.

A veranda broke behind her broke as Orin and another crashed through the masonry into the square below. She spied her sister nimbly running along the narrow ledge, leaping across the corner, only to dig her dagger, like a pirate, into a wall hanging, slowing her descent. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched her sibling throw rude gestures and invitations to who ever had been stupid enough to be on her tail.

A searing bone crushing pain broke against Charlotte's shoulders, the force lifting her off her feet and sending her sprawling into the sodden dirt. She skidded chest first across the cobbles, tearing into her clothes before coming to rest, coughing and spluttering. Her sword dropped from her useless hand. Dazed, she forced herself to roll over only to see a heavy, sliver nailed club coming down at her.

Forcing herself to ignore her shattered shoulder, she rolled, the club creating a crater of splintered stone where her head had been.

Charlotte scrambled into a crouch, cradling her injured arm. Leaping back as the club whistled towards her, missing her by a hairs breadth.

Spotting her sword, she leapt, rolling towards it. The towering Versipelli's brought the club down once more, inches from her outstretched hand. The biped charged her. Staggering to her feet, she neatly ducked under its arm clearing the distance to her sword, thankful when her fingers clasped the handle.

Turning, she had no time to think as the hulking creature roared, baring down on her. She ran to meet it.

Jumping into the air, she spun herself, her left foot, kicking it full force in the chest. Following through on the tail end of her spin, her right arm buried her sword up to the hilt, adding a twist to obliterate its heart. As it fell backwards, she followed using her foot to help dislodge her weapon.

A commotion came from the far reaches of the courtyard as a bunch of humans appeared from one of the arches.

She gave a thought to her offspring, freeing the cattle had never been part of the plan but there was no doubt it was Brittany's doing. It meant she was close to her goal.

She heard a warning shout,

"Charlie!"

There came a blinding flash. Spinning towards it, she was engulfed in a white powder, catching a brief glimpse of a gypsy before the bitter taste of garlic burned her throat and eyes. Demons taunted her, poking her viciously and slashing at her with their claws. Swinging wildly at the ghouls that assaulted her, she felt her blade meet something unresisting and a wail before succumbing to the spell.

Her legs went weak, breaking beneath her as she collapsed into the solid loam with a sickening crunch.

X

**Ps… Are we all wondering what our Britty boo is upto? **


	35. Chapter 35

**Dear Guest TUYET PHAM **.. Your analogy of Vamp Verse being 'An oasis in a barren desert' was quite beautiful, thankyou, and I thought to myself that you ought to be writing yourself.

Also for some reason I mistook your name for Tutankhamen and got images of pyramids and camels.. Dunno why, just one of those crazy ass things that happen.

Any whoooo … On with the show ladies and gents.. Thanks for your kick ass reviews and encouragement. I just hope I've managed to do it justice.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat .. **who is currently on hols and is going to have a proverbial heart attack when they get back.

X

VAMP VERSE

X

_The Play House. 1690. She's lost._

_X_

It would seem during her failed escape attempt, Santana had made some allies, as one of the humans from The Pits, claiming he owed her, had pointed Brittany in the direction of somewhere called The Hole, where they were certain Santana was being held prisoner.

The sandy haired youth had offered to help Brittany and her companions but she had ushered him out of the underground jail telling him to take his people to safety and ignore whatever they saw. She assured him, if he or anyone spoke of their experiences in The Play House, they would more than likely to be seen as mad men and treated as such.

She waited until the prisoners absconded into the main square towards the sounds of the raging battle before bolting towards the narrow archway concealed in pagodas and lush vines.

A force planted her square in the chest, shattering her sternum and sending her careening backwards through the air where she broke against the hard ground. She struggled to move as excruciating pain engulfed her. Rolling onto her front, she blinked her eyes as spots of white danced before them.

Brittany's nails dug into the ground as she forced herself on her hands and knees, trying to pick herself up, her sodden hair falling like a veil round her face. Her weak arms buckled beneath her, depositing her back into the mire.

Again, she gathered her hands and knees under her, slowly putting one before the other trying to make it to the fountain.

Footsteps approached and a vaguely familiar voice sneered, each word punctuated by a savage kick to her ribs,

"Give. It. Up. Youngling!"

The last kick cracked Brittany's ribs and sent her in a horizontal spin across the yard, her back colliding with the wall, causing the masonry to crack. Once more, she tumbled, face down to the floor with an oof, cleaving the leather of her gloves, jarring her wrists and banging her kneecaps as she braced her fall.

She needed time to heal. Reaching out, she sensed the tell tale signs of a vampire and wrapped her will around its mind, squeezing.

There came a shriek.

Pulling herself up into a slumped, sitting position, Brittany gripped her thigh to alleviate her agony. She shook her head to clear it, spitting gravel and dirt on to the paved walkway as she felt her bones slowly knit back together, eyes alighting on a russet haired girl she vaguely recognised, twitching in the middle of the tiny courtyard.

Sniffing, the damp blond wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Lucinda had said to stop for nothing but this was personal.

Using the wall to help her stand, Brittany took a moment to make sure her body had repaired itself. Satisfied, she cracked her neck and stretched her muscles. Coming to a decision, she relinquished control of the girl.

Approaching, Brittany shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it on the ground where it landed with a wet slap. Using the toe of her boot, she flipped the lithe girl on her back, snarling,

"You and I have unfinished business."

Lylah cowered raising her hands in defence, her green eyes pleading,

"Please don't hurt me. I have no quarrel with you. I was defending myself."

Taking a few steps back, Brittany spat,

"Bullshit! Now get up!"

Lylah got unsteadily to her feet, using the fountain as balance, never taking her eyes from the blond, whining accusingly,

"Why are you doing this to me?

Brittany ignored her falseness, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt,

"You made the mistake of hurting someone very dear to me."

Lylah cackled, replying, flippantly,

"In case you hadn't noticed, we're vampires. It's what we do."

Brittany continued, coldly,

"Does the name Santana ring any bells?"

Lylah's cackle turned into a full on roaring laugh, making Brittany's blood boil.

"The gypsy whore?" The red head waved a pale hand, "Is that what all this is for? She's hardly worth the trouble."

Enraged, the blond youngling rushed forward. At the last moment, Lylah, deviously and neatly stepped to one side, catching Brittany by the crown of her hair, using the blond's momentum to drive her into the carved fish, crumbling it to pebbledash.

With a grunt, Brittany rolled in the fountain pool to see Lylah bearing on her, foot aimed at her face. Brittany brought up her right leg, kicking up and driving her heel into the russet vampire's core. Lylah let out a high-pitched scream as she tipped forward into the blonde beneath.

They scratched at each other faces and chest, raining down blows on each other. Blood seeping and skin knitting as soon as it was split. . Fingers wrapped in each other's locks, they hissed and snarled, struggling to keep their balance as the slime in the fountain betrayed them, tipping them over the fountains edge onto the dirt of the courtyard.

They grappled with each other, rolling in the mud and the rain. Blocks and parries of knees, forearms and elbows. Gaining the upper hand, Lylah straddled slender hips, twisting her fingers, wickedly, into blond tresses, punching the youngster in the face, caving her eye socket.

Brittany reeled, feeling her teeth rattle in her head. Lylah leaned down, bashing the blond's skull into the ground,

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, you stupid little girl."

Her head throbbing and barely able to see, Brittany attempted to reach out for Lylah's mind, struggling to find a way in.

'Please don't fail me now'

She tried again and found all paths where blocked. She wasn't used to using her abilities in the midst of such chaos and hurt.

Squirming to be rid of the red head, she manoeuvred her arms under the other girl's thighs, firing Lylah into a somersault over her head, sending her flying across the courtyard.

Wincing, Brittany felt clumps of her hair tear from her scalp. She twisted in the dirt, scrambling to get her hands and feet beneath her.

Her body could not take much more. She needed to end this and fast.

Fuelled by adrenalin and with lighting speed, Brittany removed a refashioned, silver crochet needle, Lucinda liked to call Hornets, from the back flap of her waistcoat, charging forward catching Lylah unawares. Lifting her by a slender thigh, she drove the russet haired girl back into the villa wall, sinking the Hornet in between the alabaster vampire's ribs.

Lylah screeched as if she had been burned.

As she had been taught, Brittany delivered a volley of swift punches, Lucinda would have been proud of, to the area, driving it deep. Satisfied the needle was weakening her opponent and making it difficult for her to heal, Brittany kept her pinned to the wall, fangs bared, roaring,

"I think it is _you_ that has no idea of what _I _am capable of!"

She drove her forehead into Lylah's nose, flattening it, before letting her sink to the paved walkway.

Partially blind and body aching, Brittany collapsed on her ass in the dirt, hunched over, her head bowed and wrists resting on her raised knees, not caring that she currently sat in a puddle of orange, brown and crimson. She hesitantly traced her fingertips over her eye socket, letting out a painful hiss at the shooting daggers of pain.

Her hair clumped in strands, dripping browny red into her palms. Running her hand through her hair, she paused when she felt tiny platelets at the back of her skull dip and move under her fingertips. She heard them grind against one another. No wonder she had struggled to use her abilities.

Charlotte had warned her that whilst most wounds on skin, muscle and bone tended to heal rather quickly, organs and huge trauma's took up to a number of days, depending on the nature of the injury.

She tugged her clothes, covered from head to toe in dirt, her sleeves were torn to shreds and her leather waistcoat was scuffed where Lylah's nails had gouged it. Fortunately, the Songbird was unmarred

Lylah snuffled, spraying droplets of blood, across from her, arching her back and legs stiffening out straight, writhing, as she pawed where the Hornet had disappeared into her flesh, the wound healing over encasing it in sinew and muscle where it would slowly fester like an infection, rotting her from the inside.

Blood dripped from the older vampire's already swollen nose, caking her neck and the front of her dress in maroon. Dark bruises were beginning to form under Lylah's eyes as they rolled back in her head and she let out a deep, painful moan.

Brittany kicked out at her,

"Shut up, you!"

Gingerly getting to her feet, Brittany gripped the battered and bruised vampire by the throat, lifting her off the ground and pinning her to the beige villa wall. Lylah weakly scratched at Brittany's gauntlet and forearm, kicking her feet uselessly. Brittany removed another Hornet from the flap of her waistcoat, growling,

"I warned you, to run and hide and that I would come for you. Do you still think I'm delusional?"

Lylah's eyes flickered with a hint of recognition. Snarling and gnashing, spitting bright red, she thrashed. Brittany turned her face and exerted more pressure, feeling the girl's windpipe crumple in her grasp. Drawing the sharp tip of the Hornet down Lylah's bruised cheek and leaving a trail of crimson behind, Brittany continued in a faux, bright tone,

"Now, let's see what your worse nightmare is, shall we?"

She probed the cacophony of Lylah's mind, filtering through every last memory and dream, crinkling her brow in disgust at what she found there. Where as Brittany created dreamscapes of beauty and light, this girl revelled in debauchery and torture. Brittany felt as she had been tainted some how by just being connected to the vampire. Her thoughts slithered like vipers, scuttled like spiders and covered with a film of grime Brittany wasn't sure she would ever be rid of, the whole experience left a rotten taste in the youngster's mouth.

"Garrgh!" Brittany coughed, flicking out her tongue as her palate swam with mould.

This creature took pleasure in suffering and feared only one thing.

"Really?" She exclaimed, "After everything you've done, your youth and your looks?"

The corner of Lylah's mouth twitched up, Brittany was assaulted with images of the red head, and Santana intimately cavorting, sharing kisses and touches, of Santana tasting Lylah on another's fingers. Even in her predicament, the alabaster girl chuckled. Consumed with jealousy, Brittany screamed, bashing her against the wall and sinking the Hornet into her armpit.

Lylah let out an agonising shriek. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Brittany sucked in gulps of useless air. A streak of lighting flashed overhead, lending a rodent like quality to Lylah's contorted features.

An idea struck the blond.

Yes, that would do nicely.

Leaning inches from the other girl's face, she reviled,

"You are pathetic. Death would be too good for you." She saw Lylah's eyes brighten with the shimmer of hope. Brittany shook her head, in reply "No, not death, I have something in mind else for you."

She removed damp, tangled russet hair from a pale ear and whispered softly.

Lylah panicked, redoubling her efforts to break from Brittany's hold,

"No, please no," She begged, "Anything but that."

Brittany chuckled darkly,

"No, I think it shall suit you perfectly."

She continued to hold Lylah against the wall until she saw green turn a milky hue. Shoulders hunched up around her neck, arms drew in tight to the body and pale, slender hands curled up into claws close to her chest. Her shattered nose even managed a twitch. Brittany flung her, harshly into the floor, yelling,

"Go be with your own kind, were you belong"

Lylah hunched on the ground, scrabbling to the wall. Keeping low and close, she skittered in terror letting out a squeal as she fled round the corner and out of sight.

Excited yips and barks caught her attention. Bramble leapt up and down, far through the arch. He took a few steps forward and then ran back, indicating for Brittany to follow.

"Ok. I'm coming. I'm coming." She muttered to herself as the Snuffer disappeared in the direction the youth had pointed.

Retrieving her jacket, she took off after him.

X

With her dagger raised, Brittany cautiously followed Bramble through a myriad of subterranean passageways, every sense stretched to its limit, expecting to meet an enemy round every corner.

She took notice to watch the Snuffer as he travelled nose to the floor, cocking his head and giving a twitch of his giant ear as if trying to fathom a puzzle. Every now and then, his hackles would rise and he would let out a guttural, frustrated growl.

As they pressed further into the pitch-black tunnels, his movements became hesitant and the distance between them lessened, eventually coming to cling beside her.

She comfortingly scratched him behind the ear as he fearfully whined and she felt him tremble slightly against her thigh and hip. He seemed to sense and understand the importance of their mission, over coming his fear to lead her by a few steps.

Here, claws had been gouged into the stonework and the roof dripped, splattering them both in something Brittany had no wish to know of. She was almost glad of her impaired vision when she spied the faded browns on the walls and her feet stuck to the floor.

Warm, fetid air rose to meet her, the stench becoming stronger as the pair travelled deeper.

The hollow whistle of the wind and the echo of her steps were the only sounds to greet her. She came open an awning hole that led into a dank murk. The stench here was a mix of excrement, damp and rot.

With trepidation, the blond peered into the blackness, picking out a long table, benches, over spilled, torn cushions, furs, broken armchairs and other household items.

It looked like a mix between a barracks and doghouse.

Stepping into the low, long, cavern, Bramble bounded a head. The plink of water and the wind continuing to whistle added an eerie quality to it all. Her foot skidded underneath her. Nimbly she regained her balance not wanting to land in what she knew was faeces, instead stepping on something that crunched.

Bramble whined, attempting to dig his way under a solid door in the far wall.

She hurriedly made her way over, tugging at the heavy padlock. Shouldering the door and finding resistance, she took a step back to examine it. She knew she would not be able to break the hinges in her weakened state.

Bramble became frantic, pawing and scratching at the base of the door.

"I know buddy."

Brittany ran to the table throwing the numerous cups and goblets where they rang on the ground. She upturned a urine soaked fur and heard the tell tale jangle of keys.

Reaching under the table, her fingers clasped round a thick metal ring. Jumping up she gave a small yelp of triumph.

Quickly, she began going through them one by one until the padlock's clasp sprang open. Using her weight, she pushed the door inwards, the hinges screeching in protest. She gave it another shove, spilling herself into what could only be described as a chamber of horrors.

Using the door jam to steady herself as her eyes watered and her stomach flipped, Brittany dry heaved. Covering her nose and her mouth with her arm, she forced herself to re enter the dungeon.

Decomposing bodies and random gnawed limbs lay strewn across the floor. Their faces twisted, mouths agape and eyes sunken, skeletal in form apart from their distended bellies full of toxic gases, with pallor's of green and grey.

The heat and the sickly sweet smell of decay were over powering and unbearable. Brittany gagged again when she noticed the congealed pools of black blood, the buzzing of flies on the edges of her hearing.

Bramble began to tug at the skirt of one victim chained to the wall, being held up by nothing save their spindly wrists.

Who could inflict such unadulterated cruelty?

Icy tendrils of fear crept up along Brittany's spine, goose bumping her skin as she recognised the dark locks, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Ohh God, no!" She breathed mournfully.

Flinging herself onto her knees in front of the prone figure, she swiftly drew back Santana's hair, she was barely recognisable, her face gaunt and her skin pulled taunt. Her breastbone poked out. Brittany softly kissed the corner of her cracked split lips, whispering,

"Songbird, I'm here

In blind panic and rising grief, Brittany began to tug on the chains, repeating,

"No! no! no!" She used her foot for leverage, yet trying to be careful not to injure Santana further, she yanked hard, screaming in frustration when the chain wouldn't give," No!"

Her lover continued to slump, her lifeless body flopping with Brittany's every move.

Bramble nuzzled a prominent, sallow cheek, his eyes mournful. He licked and snuffed against her skin letting out a small, keening whine.

Sobbing, Brittany's fingers fumbled with the keys, her shaking hands causing them to miss their target.

On her knees in the middle of the dirt and decay, the blond covered her face with her hands, exhaling in an attempt to calm her nerves. Picking up the ring, she forced her hands to remain steady as she began going through the various keys once more.

Bramble's hackles rose as he let out a snarl, leaping over Brittany's shoulders. She turned to see him arcing through the air, letting out a yelp as he broke against the cell wall, falling limp to the ground.

Not a few feet away weasel-faced vampire cradled his savaged arm, dropping the crude stake in his hand.

"You!" Brittany snarled.

In a blink of an eye, she lunged from her position, catching Sebastian under the chin and by the chest, driving him full force into the roof. She registered the blink of surprise on his smarmy features just before she brought the flat of her elbow round, smashing him in the face.

She slammed him with her will, like a battering ram at a castle gates, obliterating any resistance he may have possessed.

"I command, you shall not speak, you shall not move. You shall remain here. Anyone comes to save you or remove you from this room other than me, you shall kill them on sight!"

He gurgled and struggled. Brittany flung him to the ground, punching him repeatedly, releasing all her pent up rage and grief until she felt her knuckles break and her shoulders burn. Exhausted, she rolled off him, leaving him to flail as she crawled back to Santana.

She quickly removed the manacles from Santana's ankles, whispering affirmations of love and encouraging her to hold on. Unshackling her wrists, Santana slumped forward into Brittany's chest.

Brittany scooped up Santana bridal style, pressing her lips to her forehead, shocked at how light weight she felt in her arms, carrying her out into the cavern.

Making her every movement smooth so as not to jostle her precious cargo, Brittany sank to her knees.

She could not be dead, not after all they had been through. Not now, Brittany had finally found her. She refused to believe that fate would be this cruel.

Cradling Santana in her lap, she shook her slightly, her voice broken,

"Please wake up,"

Santana's head lolled back, her eyes closed and her lips parted, her tongue swollen and black.

Her destined needed to heal. She needed sustenance.

Brittany nipped at her fingertips, gripping the leather in her teeth, she drew the glove from her left hand, spitting it to the floor. Still cradling her lover, she worked her fingers into the buckles of the gauntlet exposing the pale skin of her wrist.

She knew Charlotte had warned her against such things but this was different.

Sinking her teeth into her flesh, she gouged her own veins, holding them over Santana's open mouth. Her life force dripped, landing on Santana's lips, dribbling down the sides of her face. Brittany healed. She repeated it, each time making sure her blood did not go to waste.

"Drink God damn it! Drink!" She screamed.

She felt a cold nose and a furry head nuzzle into her as Bramble collapsed. He let out a little whimper and his breathing became laboured.

Santana remained motionless and unresponsive in her arms. Brittany held her close, her blood tear stained cheek against brittle dark hair and her whispered pleas became desperate as she rocked her Songbird,

"I love you, please wake up. Please wake up."

Brittany's pained wail of anguish bounced off the walls, echoing back to surround her.

X

**Ps Phewwwwww .. *bites nails and hands behinds hand* Go easy .. I really hope I managed to meet ur expectations. **


	36. Chapter 36

Hey folks, lets see how are vamps are doing… Thanks for your reviews and the to all you faithful followers. Hello to the newbies that have just joined.. Hope you enjoy.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

p.s A SHOOTING PEOPLE? REALLY? Is this really happening?

They might as well go all Dallas and make it a Bobby in the shower scenario..

Britt wakes up and she realises the WHOLE of Glee was just a dream whilst she was getting her tonsils out or she fell off her motocross bike! Or she was too busy staring at Santana n walked into a door or a lamppost and knocked herself out.

Could you imagine… "San… It was sooo beautiful!."

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Dante's Inferno. Eternity._

X

Charlotte flinched from the ghastly apparitions that taunted her. Creatures with too many eyes and too many legs that should not be able to support their fat and misshapen bodies scuttled on the peripheries of her vision. Nothing could quell the despair as the landscape dipped, crumbling and reforming, tossing her cruelly from one dimension to the next.

She would never see the light.

She was a fallen and was not worthy

Mustard yellow smog enveloped her, restricting her movements. Her skin prickled at the sound of a shrill cackle and haunting whoops.

Holly's features swam in front of her eyes, sneering,

"I should never have rebirthed you. Now, I'm stuck with you."

Her sister danced before her, clapping gleefully,

"She prefers me!"

Holly stroked a gloved hand tenderly along Lucinda's cheek,

"So much prettier, smarter and charming compared to you, you waste of space."

Maggots and worms fell from Brittany's mouth as she accused with a hollow voice,

"Why Charlotte? Why me? I wanted a life, children, a future"

"I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!" She guiltily, sobbed.

"So selfish Charlotte!" Holly chided.

Charlotte covered her face with her hands, squeezing her eyes together, trying to block them out, rocking as she let out a tortured wail, gnashing her teeth into her palms until they bled.

She peeked through her fingers to find the three blonds gone.

"Holly! Lucinda! Brittany!" She called into the awning expense of eternity only to have her cries return, mocking and unanswered.

She would be alone, forever with her thoughts, paying penance for all her misdeeds.

She had taken Brittany's life. Caused her sister's death and burdened her one time lover to name but a few.

They had forsaken her.

It was what she deserved.

Alone.

Forever.

The smog pulsed and ebbed. She gagged on the stench of sulphur, her eyes and nose streaming as she struggled to breathe, the sound of her heart pounding louder in her ears as she gasped for air.

Through the fog, a white haired, bleached bone faced ghoul clad in black moth eaten rags, reached for her with it's seven taloned paw. Its eye sockets flamed green as its voice vibrated from the depths of a thousand crypts,

"Charlie!"

It was coming to devour her. She had to get away.

Frantically, Charlotte scooted back on her haunches, her hands falling through the ground that turned to ash at her touch. She banged against something solid, halting her panicked retreat. She lashed out with a foot,

"Be gone, Demon!" She screamed in her head. Her tongue flaccid and useless, it came out as a gurgle.

An imp, its dripping, purple chin visible from under it's dark hood, tittered,

"Quick. Bring her to him!"

The ghoul leaned down, chuckling maliciously,

"You're going to get what you deserve."

Charlotte found herself in her past. She was fourteen, in a strange castle, miles away from everything she had ever known, from her playmates, her Mother and her tomboy, younger sibling.

They were bringing her to her brutish, middle-aged husband to perform her wedding night duties.

No. Not again

Her playmates and her maid had told her what would happen. He had wanted to put his _thing_ in her.

His rough sausage fingers had poked and bruised her fair and childlike skin. He had not been gentle when he violated her intimate places, ignoring her pleas and struggles.

It had hurt and she had bled.

In rising hysteria, and the accompanying pain of the memory, she cried out, bleating,

"Mummy, please noo! Don't make me!"

Why was nobody listening?

The ghoul's knobbled, forked tongue flickered out as it lifted her by the shoulders. Charlotte's fingernails scraped uselessly against it's bleached bone skull. She jack-knifed trying to shake the imp that gripped her legs, loose. It sing songed, jeering,

"I've got you!"

The ghoul and the imp were carrying her to Hades.

No one would come looking for her.

No body cared!

"Nana!" She screamed as she continued to feebly struggle.

The walls of the cavern dripped with blood and the floor erupted in flame. Three headed dogs feasted on the bowels of shrieking victims, their hands clawed, reaching out for her as they sped past.

"Help us!"

"Save us!"

Charlotte's head flopped and lolled, her eyes rolling. Her skin dowsed in sweat. She felt herself flung mercilessly upon a hard surface, snakes coiled out to wrap around her limbs. Her body became stiff before she broke into a series of spasms.

A brightly coloured feathered biped with bright yellow eyes and a clacking orange bill, cawed,

"It's breaking her!" It held out a bowl of wriggling insects in bubbling cerulean, "Give her this!"

They were trying to poison her.

The ghoul took her head in a vice like grip, she could feel its scales biting into the soft flesh of her cheek. The imp sat on her legs, snarling,

"Stay still, you stupid bitch!"

Charlotte bucked her hips, trying to dislodge it as the ghoul grasped her jaw. She immediately clamped her mouth closed. The taloned hand applied pressure to her jawbone, forcing her mouth open and the feathered biped tipped the contents of the bowl down her throat. Charlotte gagged, reviling the burning and wriggling sensation on her tongue. She tried to spit it out but a taloned hand held her mouth shout.

Unable to breathe, the blond thrashed. White spots danced behind her eyes and she swallowed the vile concoction, gasping for air. Fiery reds and murky greens swirled and the faces of the creatures began to spin. She heard snippets of worried voices.

"Will she make it?"

"I don't know, she maybe too far gone."

"I'm gonna kill him." Came a growl.

"I'm here my love." The ghoul dipped towards her.

"Liar!" She slurred, welcoming the darkness and its respite, slipping into unconsciousness.

X

When she came to, she was in a soft bed and wrapped up in heavy blankets. Coldness clung to her very bones and she was surprised when she gave an involuntary shiver. She had not shivered from lack of heat in centuries, she didn't know she was still capable of it.

She had no idea how long she had been out for but from the lack of activity, she assumed the battle was over.

Charlotte licked her dry lips and grimaced when she tasted dirt. Moving, she let out a groan. Every muscle ached as if she had been trampled and her felt like wool. She hadn't felt like this since her youthful evenings drinking mead.

Her throat felt as if it had been scraped with a knife. Muzzily, she croaked,

"Where am I?"

"Ah, the patient is awake." A bright and cheery voice announced, "And to answer your question we are in the previous tenants' rather fancy boudoir."

Charlotte winced as the woolly feeling disappeared to be replaced by throbbing, every sound suddenly magnified.

Eyelashes clumping together, she wiped at her gummy eyes. Peeling them open slowly, her vision swam. Groggily, she asked,

"Why does my mouth taste like a swamp?"

The enthusiastic voice replied,

"That's because…. You ate leeches!"

Her eyesight returning to normal, a toothless grin, bushy eyebrows and tufts of grey hair sticking out on all directions invaded her personal space. Charlotte grimaced,

"Urggh! Disgusting!"

Mako continued, grinning broadly, showing off his pink gums,

"Nothing wrong with leeches. They've been known to cure many ailments."

His paper light hands flittered over her face, gently turning her this way and that, inspecting her. He pulled down her bottom eyelids,

"Colour seems to be returning normal." He fixed her with his twinkling eyes, "That, my girl was a particularly potent spell. You're lucky you came out of it."

He turned addressing someone over his shoulder,

"It will be a while before she regains her full strength, other than that, physically she's fine. I'd watch out for the nightmares though. There might be some residual after effects of what ever she witnessed whilst she was under."

She could make out make the face of her Mistress, paler than usual and pinched with worry. Mako got up and began fussing about the room, Holly taking his place, perching on the edge of the bed.

Her Dam forsaking her echoed in her mind. It had been so real, she had heard and felt everything, the words, the gnawing emptiness when her loved ones left her, her misery and despair, the aching loneliness. She had lived it

Holly reached out to wipe her brow with a cloth and Charlotte shrank back from her touch. Her Dam stalled her approach, cloth mid air, catching the flicker of uncertainty and mistrust. Returning her cloth filled hand to her lap, the flaxen blond gave her a weak smile, holding out a cup,

"Here, you need to drink this."

Digging the heels of her hands into the mattress, she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position, her arm buckling weakly. Holly went to help her,

"Let me."

"I can do it myself." Charlotte snapped.

Lucinda's voice lulled from the corner,

"Take it easy Charlie."

Charlotte peered round Holly to find her sister, feet up on an ornately carved chest, a pile of furs under her outstretched legs, arms behind her head, relaxing in a chair looking as carefree and as fresh as daisy.

The whole scene irked her. She snarled,

"If I wanted your opinion, I'll ask for it!"

Lucinda cocked an eyebrow, muttering in reply,

"Yeah, don't thank me or anything."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to retort. Her Dam moved the cup closer to her, reproaching her gently,

"Honey Bee, come on."

Deflating, Charlotte feebly sat up. Taking the cup, her hands trembled as she raised it to her lips, drinking the contents greedily.

It wasn't their fault and she shouldn't be taking her temper out on them. The spell had some how triggered her insecurities and burrowed into her nightmares, laying them out vividly in front of her.

Fresh, warm blood was exactly what she needed, it would clear her mind and help wash away those niggling thoughts.

"I'm sorry.. It's jus"

Holly cut her off, refilling her cup,

"Shh, we understand."

Taking a sedate sip as she watched Mako, diligently work on the occupants in a wide, double coffin on the floor, she wondered if that is what it would be like for somebody under her offspring's thrall.

She suddenly remembered why they were here. Jolting upright and immediately regretting it as her body screamed in protest as the sudden abuse, she exclaimed,

"The children!"

Holly placed a light hand on her chest, gently pushing Charlotte back down.

"Calm down. They are over there."

Steeling herself for the worst, she asked with trepidation,

"Are they…"

"Dead?" Mako quipped, "Of course they are. They're Vampires."

The little old man chuckled at his own joke shuffling off out of the room.

In the double coffin, Charlotte could see a crown of gold mingled in with onyx, poking out of the top a pile of blankets and furs. Her maker began to fiddle with a gaping hole on her breeches, parting,

"Your Daughter nearly killed herself trying to save her Songbird."

Charlotte's eyes grew wide and she attempted to draw back her own blanket. Holly stopped her, reassuring her,

"They were both very weak when they were found, but after a few days rest they shall be fine."

"Well, "Lucinda declared, "I'm not sleeping in here with them or the room next door for that matter."

Charlotte threw her sister a glare.

"And why not?"

Lucinda allowed her hand to trail in the pile of furs under her legs,

"I do not want to be around when they wake up. Santana is really loud! Trust me."

Catching Lucinda's meaning, Holly and Charlotte began to shake with laughter, nearly spilling her cup on the bed spread. Lucinda side eyed her, crying indignantly,

"It's not funny! I was stuck and all I could hear at some stupid o'clock was the damn coffin knocking off the wall! I thought she was going to burst through the door, riding it like a pony."

The two older vampires broke into gales of hysterical laughter at Lucinda's offended expression. One of the mounds under the furs in the coffin shifted and the two blonds stifled their giggles as Lucinda sulked, her arms folded over her chest.

"We'll see how funny it is when you have to listen to them! Both!"

Ignoring her sister's dramatics, Charlotte finished her drink. Already she could feel some of her strength returning, her hands no longer shook and the colours in the room began to take on their normal hue.

Her Mistress got up, flicking at the young Justice Keeper to move her feet. Gingerly swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Charlotte asked no one in particular,

"So we are staying here then?"

Holly began rifling through the chest's contents, emptying various garments on the floor,

"For a little while, at least. We have a few things to clear up. After that, I'm not sure what The Council will do with it."

Lucinda cracked her knuckles,

"I'll say one thing, the idiot had style!"

Forcing her jellified legs to move, Charlotte shakily made her way over to the younglings. Even in slumber, Brittany had her arms protectively wrapped around Santana, the frail brunette curled into her, clinging onto the front of the shirt beneath, like an anchor in a storm.

She knew it was a trick of the light but Brittany seemed older some how. She was drawn and her luminous skin had lost its shine. Her eyes rolled beneath her lids, her brow crinkled slightly and her lips silently moved as if whispering secrets, drawing the tanned, waif into her further as if terrified someone would snatch her away.

Charlotte could see that even in her fragile state, Santana was nothing short of beautiful. She could only imagine what the young vampire would look like when returned to full health. Never taking her eyes from the two girls, she asked,

"Speaking of which, where is he?"

Her younger sibling tossed a fresh pair of white breeches and a smock in her direction, replying,

"Under lock and key. What ever Brittany did to him, she did it good but we had to stop that hulking she wolf ripping his head off."

Quickly, Charlotte changed, discarding her sullied clothes in the corner. Pulling the belt of her breeches, she asked,

"What did I miss?".

The room suddenly became sombre. Holly offered, softly.

"We suffered casualties, Charlotte."

"Who?"

Her Mistress continued,

"Petoire, Vargo and Orin to name a few."

Charn barrelled through the door, wide eyed and panting. Lucinda jumped up, unsheathing her daggers, growling,

"Don't you come a step closer!"

The young wolf held up her hands in surrender,

"Hey, I don't care, I came for Holly."

Lucinda visibly relaxed but remained standing, taking a small step closer to her chair.

The lithe girl addressed the older vampire,

"Holly, she's asking after you. She says to come quick."

The head of House Dubois straightened herself, fixing her hair into a knot,

"Thank you Charn. I shall be long shortly."

The teenager shot Lucinda a dirty look before disappearing. Charlotte began pulling on a brightly coloured Justacorp,

"What's that about?"

Her sister flopped back into her chair, resting one dagger on her knee whilst loosely holding the other. She leaned down into the furs once more,

"Some of the bastards came for Bramble." She began moving her hand into the pile under her outstretched legs, cooing, "But I wouldn't let them, would I? No, I wouldn't. Such a brave boy, who's a brave boy?"

Charlotte heard a small whimper. She startled when part of the furs twitched as a tail attempted to wag. Shocked, she exclaimed,

"Oh my god! I didn't even see him there."

Smiling, Lucinda announced, proudly, continuing to stroke the furs,

"He saved the day, just like a Dubois. Raging Wolfhound aren't you? "

The tail thumped once more.

Throwing Lucinda a dubious glance at her sudden strange bout of affection, Holly approached Charlotte. Her fingers worked swiftly braiding the younger vampire's hair.

"Charlotte, I need you to come with me, if you think you are able."

Charlotte nodded,

"Of course."

Holly dumped a jug in Lucinda's lap, scolding her with motherly affection,

"Your sister and I have something we need to attend to. Drink your supper and get some rest. Just this once I shall allow the Hound to sleep on the bed."

Lucinda grinned in triumph, sheathing her daggers.

Shaking her head at the youngster, she beckoned Charlotte to follow. Once out of the door, she parted,

"She's been standing guard, threatening to cut chop anyone's ears off who comes near. You know how she gets." Holly crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, making flapping birds with her hands, causing Charlotte to giggle. Holly added, "Doesn't do much for diplomacy but thank Methuselah I have you."

Her younger sister's voice called after them,

"Hey! I heard that!"

It was moments like this, with her Mistress and her sister that Charlotte wondered how she could have doubted them at all..

X

Stopping at one of the many none descript doors that lined the hallways, Holly gave a series of light raps. The door opened and Babel ushered them both inside.

The room was small and dark, save for a single flickering candle. Incense hung heavy in the air. Mako paced the floor, murmuring softly in a language Charlotte could not decipher.

Kurt was busying himself, dabbing at Lyubitshka's gored leg with a damp cloth. The old witch looked frail and bird like led upon the bed. Charlotte could see the white of bone and the deep red of torn sinew and muscle. It was a savage Versipelli's bite.

"Young man," The Mystic chided, "Unless you want a matching thick ear I suggest you stop fussing."

The gravity of the situation hit the blond vampire. Mystics did not believe in an unnatural existence, claiming the undead clung to something that was not theirs to keep.

They believed that when one passed on they went to a temporary rest, their energy returning to Mother Nature, whom they borrowed it from, and that maybe one day they would be reborn to once more walk the earth and enjoy Nature's delights.

Subdued, Holly pulled over a chair to sit beside the top of the bed with the old witch.

"Kurt," She asked, "Have you finished?"

He nodded his head morosely. Her Mistress added kindly,

"I'm sure Lucinda would like to see your battle scars and hear of your tales."

Squeezing out the cloth, he neatly laid it over the lip of the bucket. Taking Lyubitska's hand, he bowed, raising it to his lips,

"My lady, it has been an honour. May I meet you in greener pastures."

The Mystic swatted at him, her bright eyes twinkling as she joked,

"Not in your undead lifetime."

Sniffling, he moved quietly and deliberately, slipping out of the door. Babel turned the key, before resting against the wall, head bowed.

Propped up with cushions the little old woman looked spry belying the pain of her injury. She held out a spindly hand and from the depths of the room, her crow flapped, landing lightly. She brought her hand to its feathers absent-mindedly stroking it. She turned her burning eyes upon the four other occupants of the room. She began, her tone light,

"I call you all here as Elders and seniors amongst your own kind to bear witness for what I am about to ask. I do not want it said I was murdered or I carried on a sacrilegious life. No offence Babel."

"None taken" The Moor Versipellis rumbled,

The old witch stated,

"I wish to return to the circle of life and I ask you, Holliander of House Dubois to perform this task. Do you, in front of these witnesses, swear to perform that which I have asked?"

Taking Lyubitshka's hand, she nodded with sincerity,

"I do."

"Do you have it?"

Holly removed a curved, ornate dagger from with in the recesses of her leather waistcoat. The serrated blade came into a wickedly sharp looking point. The back of the blade was a dull in comparison of the teeth, each and everyone glittered, the weak orange glow dancing along the edges. Charlotte recognised it as the same blade Holly had used to terminate the bitten Methuselah thrall.

Babel gasped, pushing himself off the wall,

"You have a Subtle Knife?"

Shielding it slightly, Holly replied, defensively.

"It's for emergency's only."

The Mystic ruffled the blankets, good-naturedly hissing,

"Psst pssfttt." "I don't care, and you can bicker about it after I'm dead."

Charlotte couldn't help but smile. Even in the face of death, the old girl had pluck.

The wizened woman continued,

"Do you, Holliander of House Dubois, accept responsibility?"

"I do." Holly breathed,

"Makintosh of the Order of the Winds, do you swear to carry my true words to my sister's?"

The shadows in the room seemed to swell and gain solid form, as the room fell into silence,

"Makintosh!" Lyubitshka snapped, "Stop being soppy, you know it's the rules, now do you swear."

The candle burned a little brighter as the wrinkled old man conceded, begrudgingly,

"I do!"

"And finally Babel of Bohmerwald, do you swear, before witness, to uphold and protect the honor of House Dubois if foul words speak of this as a misdeed?"

The Versipellis growled,

"I do!"

Lyubitskha removed her shawl,

"Blood sucker, you're off the hook!"

The four of them chuckled at her off hand banter. Her bright eyes snapped up,

"Well, what are you doing waiting about? Im hardly going to bare my lady bits in front of you fella's. You can go. Shoo!"

Mako stepped forward,

"What of your crow?"

The creature nipped and nibbled at the old woman's finger tips with it's long black beak,

"I gave him licence to be free or become a guardian of another. He made his choice, which before you ask, is none of your business. Now you know what you have to do."

The toothless Mystic nodded. He snapped complicated signs with his fingers muttering a few words in Swato. The candle took on a green flicker.

"May the road rise to meet you where ever you may find yourself?"

Turning, he kept his features stoic as he unlocked the door. Babel nodded solemnly as he exited, closing it gently behind him.

Charlotte went to leave but stopped when she felt someone tugging on her sleeve. Turning, she looked into the brimming eyes of her Dam, Holly husked,

"Please stay."

The old witch deflated, succumbing to her pain. The colour drained from her skin and her chipper attitude disappeared. She became a dying woman before the vampire's very eyes.

"I couldn't keep it up any longer Holly," The witch admitted.

The flaxen vampire, drew a strand of greying hair out of the woman's face, smiling wanly, her voice tender,

"It's ok, you don't have to anymore."

The crow hopped up onto the wooden bed knob in the corner, looking bedraggled and rejected. Lyubitshka took a pale hand in hers,

"Listen to me, and listen to me carefully. Burn them all, Mystics, Wolves, thralls, Vampires. Take no chances. Make sure it's a good burning, ok."

Holly nodded, mournfully.

"Now another thing and this includes you blood sucker,"

Charlotte's ears pricked up.

"The Lopez girl. My Sister's believe she goes against nature and they _will _come looking for her."

"But why?" Holly asked, "She's not a Mystic?"

Lyubitshka gripped her leg as the skin began to move and sinew began to loop.

"The great grand mother was a High Sister and they will not allow her to sully her legacy. Especially not after what she's done."

"What did she do?"

"She murdered her infant brother's and sister. Probably against her will but they wont see that."

Holly ducked her head. Charlotte could see her knuckles turning white.

"Please tell me she didn't."

"If I can figure it out, somebody else will. It's only a matter of time before they hunt her." The old witch let out a pained gasp, "Holly, it's time." Drawing back the material on her breast, she patted Holly's hand, "Make sure it's straight and true, my child."

Holly aligned the tip of the blade over Lyubitshka's heart, pressing it into paper dry, walnut skin.

"Goodbye old friend," Holly whispered, "May your pastures be green and plenty."

A dull crunch echoed through the room as she drove the blade through her bony breast, right up to the hilt, giving it a twist. Lyubitshka's features became serene and she gave a small smile as her lest breath escaped her.

The candle flickered out, engulfing them in darkness. Holly let out a sob, collapsing into Charlotte's waiting embrace.

The crow cawed three times then all was still.

X

**Ps .. its a Sanny Bear chap next.. **


	37. Chapter 37

Guys and Dolls, I apoligise for keeping you waiting for the update. You know how it is, you hit a wall with these things and then you're not satisfied. Then LIFE and all its wonders happen. And then I just wasn't feeling it ya know.. So once again, I am sorry.

Thanks for patiently following and your kind reviews.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

x

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Some where miles away from here._

X

Santana forced one foot in front of the other, stumbling over the un even terrain. Her breathes came out ragged and laboured, her lungs burned from over exertion and her muscles ached with fatigue.

How long had she been running?

Briars wickedly, whipped at her bare ankles, clawing at her skin and her clothes snagged on unrelenting branches as she fled the dense forest floor.

The trees and scrub hemmed her in, ominous and wild, allowing no light from the stars or the moon above to act as her guide. The air felt heavy, close and lifeless.

Hounds bayed, calling to one another until their howls echoed around her from all directions. She peered back through the tightly packed trunks where she could make out flickering torch light in the distance.

A sense of foreboding came over her and cold sweat trickled down her back.

She was being hunted.

Lost in the darkness, she spun wildly, attempting find her bearings and some hint as to a direction that would grant safety.

Her skin goosebumped and prickled when a long, low moan carried upon a gust of icy wind, weaved its way through the trees. With her heart pounding in her chest, she blindly pressed on, wishing to get as far away from who ever was giving chase.

Caught off balance, she sank up to her knees in black slime. Striking out an arm to brace herself, the heel of her palm broke through the damp, rotten bark of a gnarled, moss-laden tree. Pulling her limb free, she was covered up to her mid forearm in a viscous, dark liquid. The tree began to ooze a rust coloured fluid, pumping slowly from the gaping wound.

The hounds and the torch light drew closer.

Panicking, she threw herself on her haunches, attempting to get free from the mire. She continued to tug desperately, the slime sucked at her, unwilling to relinquish its hold.

With one last yank, she tore her leg loose. Rolling over, she began to crawl on all fours, the fauna grazing and scraping her hands and knees. She let out a yelp as her leg was nearly yanked from its socket.

Looking down, she saw a manacle clasped around her delicate ankle, chaffing her skin, attached to a chain the thickness of her arm that led back into the depths of the slurping bog. Grasping its girth in her hands, she tried to pull it free, her attempts futile as her hands slid over the chains slick surface.

She tugged and tugged in frustration, letting out a strangled whimper,

"Over there!" Somebody called and the sound of many people crashing through the forest in her direction came towards her.

Santana ceased her struggle.

She needed to hide.

Looking around wildly, she spotted the roots of an beckoning, upturned tree. Swiftly, she scrabbled towards it, concealing herself in its eerie depths. Quickly grabbing handfuls of decomposing leaves, she tossed them over the chain and made herself as small as possible.

The distinctive snap of branches under foot as her hunters drew closer, surrounded her.

Holding her shakes of terror to a minimum, every muscle tensed and taunt so as not to alert her would be captors to her presence, she held her breath. The blood pounded through her veins, each beat resonating in her ears as a boom.

Surely, they could hear it too?

A guttural growl came closer to the opening of her hiding place. Suddenly a deformed wolf's head, with a slobbering mouth full of razor sharp teeth lunged at her through the entrance; it's hot, rancid breath leaving putrid moisture on her skin. She tried to press herself further back, knots and roots digging mercilessly into her shoulder blades, to get away from its snapping jaws. It's humongous paws dug into the loose loam, sending it up in sprays as it scrabbled to reach her, inching its shoulder and neck further into her space of waning safety. .

The tree lifted back, torn from its useless and lifeless roots, to reveal a crowd of twisted faced ghouls, gleefully staring down A hand clamped down, nails digging into her shoulder and she let out a frightened scream.

A weasel faced creature with fangs, hissed,

"Bring the Witch!"

Hands descended upon her affixing more manacles to her wrists and ankles that burned on contact. Animals with elongated snouts and hollow eyes surrounded her, raking her face, arms and chest, drawing blood with their jagged nails, drawing blood, whooping and shrieking in cruel delight.

Sharp stones dug into her haunches as they dragged her backwards by the hair. She could feel her scalp rising from the harsh yanks as she struggled to break free.

Other creatures followed close behind, their skin drawn, grey and paper dry, rasping and moaning as they shuffled forward, their movements jerky and disjointed. She caught glimpses of her father, brothers and sister amongst them, their eyes dead and cold. The moans became chants,

"Burn the Witch! Burn the Witch!"

She cried out,

"I'm not a Witch!" She reached for her father, pleading desperately, "Papi! Tell them. Please!"

Her protests of innocence fell upon deaf ears as her father continued to shuffle with the undead hoard.

The smell of burning filled her nostrils as they continued to pull her. She craned her neck round and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large, blazing pyre. The timber crackled and popped, sending up sparks and spitting glowing embers into the night.

She struck out at her captors, earning dark chuckles before many, heavy feet came down upon her fragile body, breaking bones and tenderising flesh. She screamed in agony, as they picked up her broken body.

Chants of Latin mixed in with groans rose to a crescendo as they carried her aloft towards her fate. Once more she caught sight of her family.

"Please!" She begged, her voice weak and failing her, "Essie? Phillip? Papi? Someone?"

Her Father and her two brothers turned their backs to her. Esperansa's eyes suddenly became bright and sentient. She smirked cruelly, showing off her pointed, blackened teeth, hissing,

"You deserve to die. Murderer!"

"No!" Santana wailed.

The creatures took her arms and legs, swinging her between them, snickering and grunting, each pass bringing her closer to the red hot flames that licked hungrily at her skirt and turning the fine hairs on the left side of her body to crisp.

They arched her into the air, relinquishing their grip at the highest point. She flailed for a moment before landing amongst the flames. She curled in upon herself, shrieking at the all consuming pain as her skin bubbled, the fire cooking her alive.

A foreign sense of calm and soothing comfort cocooned her as she watched her limbs char and blacken. A silken tender voice assured her,

"I've found you."

She felt herself rise out of her body, leaving her shrivelled, ashen shell behind.

"Please, come back to me, Songbird."

She floated towards the warm and inviting voice. There was a flash of sapphire and blinding gold before the darkness reached out, enveloping her once more.

X

Santana yawned lazily, snuggling further into the comfortable bed, drawing the warm blankets further up around her. She scrunched her eyes, chasing away the horrific nightmares of vicious, blood sucking ghouls and snarling, hound like creatures who fed on the meat of men. Instead, she focused on the images, that flitted across her mind, of a beautiful blond with an infectious smile, giggling in a meadow, pregnant with harvest.

This was her favourite time of day. That cosy haze between sleep and wakefulness, where dreams lingered and the excitement of a new day full of adventures lapped gently at the edges of her consciousness, like waves on a fair shore.

The brunette could hear people moving around the house, probably her father and brothers. She would take ten more minutes and rise.

The smell of the spring morning permeated her senses. It was inviting and invigorating. She inhaled, letting out a small splutter as she nearly swallowed a mouthful of ,what she realised, was hair.

Her sister had no doubt stolen into her bed; as she was want to do after a particular restless evening. Santana was surprised when the body beside her shifted, entwining their long, feminine, naked legs with her own and the arm under her neck and pillow, drew her into a protective embrace.

The cocoon of sleep left her and realisation she was not in her own bed poured down her back like a pail of ice-cold water, leaving behind parched dry lips and muscles that ached as if she had done a days labour in the field. She felt unusually light headed.

Had she gotten drunk with Hudson and landed in the bed of one of the local girls?

Maybe, if she was quick and quiet she could sneak out and make it back before her father noticed she was missing. Now, if she could only get out of the bear hug she was currently captive of.

Santana shifted slowly so as not to disturb her bedmate. Gingerly, she opened her eyes and gasped, ceasing her movements.

She was wrapped in soft darkness and in Brittany's arms, which meant it was all real, the vampires, the Versipellis, everything and her body was still trapped deep beneath the streets of Rome.

Santana let out a small whimper, moulding herself into the blonde, attempting to glean what ever illusion of safety and comfort she could before she had to go back to her perpetual nightmare.

For a moment she had been alive, hurtling down a different path of existence, one that contained a simple but welcomed future in blissful ignorance of the grains of truth in legends and horror stories.

For a moment, she had been truly free.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she struggled to contain her tumultuous emotions.

No, she wouldn't allow her despair to consume her, instead, she would bury it and savour this final, blessed occasion she had been granted, giving her something to hold on to and cherish when the time came.

Resting her head on Brittany's breast, she remained silent, staring into the enveloping, dark, allowing the rhythmic rise and fall of her companion's chest to soothe her.

Even Brittany preferred to be human.

The Latin girl fiddled absent-mindedly with the ends of Brittany's corn silk hair, taking in their surroundings. This dreamscape was different. They were in a wide, plush, doubled breasted coffin nestled amongst furs and blankets.

Santana found herself slightly disappointed. She liked their dream house with its broken walls, splintered miss matched furniture and the way the summer heat accentuated their entwined aroma, reminding her of what they had shared.

Maybe the manifestation of the coffin was a sign that her end was near and this bittersweet moment with Brittany might very well be her last.

She raised herself on her elbow, wincing as her body protested. She thought it strange; she had never felt too much hurt in a dreamscape before. Perhaps her mind was unable to leave behind the amount of abuse inflicted upon her physical form.

She pushed it back, focusing instead upon the beauty next to her.

Brittany slept soundly, her shell pink lips parted slightly, a tiny amount of adorable drool escaping the corner of her mouth. Her hair lay out on the pillow like a halo.

This could be her personal heaven.

Santana reached out, ghosting her finger down the dusting of light freckles, over the bridge of her lover's nose and the apple of her cheek, mapping the constellations against luminous skin in case the apparition before her faded away forever and in case she forget when she was snapped back to the harsh reality of her situation.

Brittany's brow furrowed and her nose crinkled at the feather light touches. Santana's heart swelled as she heard the blond murmur her name, tightening her grip round the Latin girl's shoulders and waist, pulling the smaller girl on top of her.

Biting back a sob as tears threatened to fall, Santana allowed herself to fall, gently, into the comforting body beneath. She closed her eyes, snuggling closer and once more allowing the rise and fall of Brittany's chest to calm her.

Yes. If this could be her heaven, she would go gladly..

X

Santana awoke to soft lips like fluffy clouds pressing against her caramel skin as feather light touches, beneath her sleep shirt, left a blazing trail over her ribs and torso. The brunette remained still, feigning sleep, not wishing to open her eyes in case her lover ceased her ministrations and the dream ended.

Brittany continued to place butterfly kisses up her neck and long the crook of her jaw, working her way up before lightly grazing Santana's tiny earlobe with her teeth.

"San." The blonde husked, teasingly, "I know you're awake."

The younger vampire loved this delicious torture, even though she ached for Brittany to take her and reduce her into a boneless, quivering mess who couldn't even remember her own name, she was intrigued to see how far her angel would go.

The taller girl chuckled mischievously, drawing her tongue up the shell of Santana's ear and pressing the fingers of her left hand, lightly but firmly into the taunt groove of her hip.

The touch sent delightful tingles straight to Santana's core. Brittany continued to alternate between nibbling and gently sucking down the column of her throat whilst her left hand moved laboriously lower, lingering near the brunette's mound. Santana's hips involuntarily raised a fraction, in reply.

She cursed herself internally. She was fighting a losing battle but she wasn't willing to give in.

Not that easily.

Not just yet.

Steeling herself, Santana clutched the blanket in her bunched fist, fooling herself into thinking it would somehow ground her, like an anchor.

The corner of Santana's mouth twitched up as a strong hand parted her thighs before leaving fleeting touches up along sensitive skin, stopping, tantalizingly, just below the place she yearned for her lover the most.

The younger vampire swallowed a frustrated whimper.

Brittany shifted, slipping her right arm under the pillow where Santana's head lay, raising herself on her elbow.

The Latin girl could feel her companion studying her to see if she would cave as she dragged out the excruciating anticipation, trailing her fingers everywhere but the one place that begged for attention.

The air in the coffin was close and warm, full of the heady, intoxicating mixture of their arousal. She slyly gulped, loving the way she could taste the both of them, rolling over her taste buds. It was delicious and addictive, more so than the sanguine fluid she needed to survive.

Hyper sensitive, Santana was sure she could hear the flutter of Brittany's eyelashes upon her cheek, the creaking of the wood and the soft scratch of material over skin. She was almost certain she heard the ghost of a whispered,

"I love you."

Brittany nuzzled Santana's nose with her own, her fingers creeping up the inside of a tanned thigh, as she whispered playfully against Santana's lips,

" It's like that, is it?"

Santana tensed her calves and her nose twitched, fighting the urge to grin. She could do this, she could hold out.

The blonde removed her hand, quickly working Santana's sleep shirt up under her chin, exposing her breasts, adding, softly,

"Guess we shall just have to try something else then"

Santana tingled from head to toe, as if she had been struck a tiny bolt of lightening. She was savouring their little game. Every touch and caress etched into her memory for when she returned to The Hole, if she ever did.

Santana's stomach curled and her sex throbbed as she felt Brittany's left hand return to their original nesting place, taunting and coaxing her to break. The blond placed soft kisses to the swell of her breast. The fine hairs on Santana's arms stood on end as a wet tongue darted out, tracing patterns into her mocha skin.

Brittany drew her fingers through the brunette's slick folds as she teasingly swirled her tongue around a dusky, puckered nipple.

Santana crinkled her brow and let out almost inaudible gasp at the sensation. She felt Brittany smirk against her before gentle teeth grazed the stiff nub. A pleasurable moan escaped Santana's lips as she arched her back and took a fist of Brittany's hair, pressing herself further into the blond.

Her eyes fluttered open a fraction as she breathed,

"Britt."

Brittany sucked lightly before letting the wet nub free. She chuckled against her,

"So you _are_ awake."

Brittany dipped her left hand lower, teasing Santana's entrance with her middle finger, causing the Spanish girl's hips to buck. Gripping Brittany's sleep shirt at the small of her back, Santana whined, needily,

"Britt!"

Brittany manoeuvred herself between Santana's legs, hovering over her, arching an eyebrow and demanding in that tone that made Santana weak at the knees,

"Say it!"

Santana bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. Brittany lowered herself, brushing their noses together, smirking and murmuring against the corner of her mouth, drawing out the vowel,

"San."

Evilly, she brushed her thumb over Santana's sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves as she nipped at her plump lips. Bright blue mischievously twinkled, boring into deep chocolate brown full of unbridled want. Unable to hold out any longer, Santana broke,

"Please!"

"Nahh haa." Brittany teased between kisses, "Say it properly."

Santana whimpered in desperation,

"Please Brittany. I need you!"

Her lover slowly dipped her middle finger into her slick core. Santana winced at the slight discomfort of the intrusion.

It hadn't hurt the last time, but then again this was different, this time she was weaker. She chased away the unwanted thought.

As if sensing her unease, Brittany slowed her movements and languidly danced their tongues together. Santana pulled her closer deepening the kiss as Brittany slowly slid her finger knuckle deep.

She let out a moan as the slight pain gave way to pleasure. Brittany rose herself on her hand, drawing her finger in an out as Santana's hips rose to meet her.

"Please Britt!" She pleaded.

Brittany gently entered another finger. Santana felt herself stretch. She had never felt so full before. She gasped,

"Oh!"

Brittany began rolling her hips into every thrust, watching the Latina's every facial expression, breathing,

"God, you are so beautiful!"

Santana slipped her hand beneath Brittany's sleep shirt, needing to feel her as the blond quickened her pace. She wrapped her legs around Brittany's back, drawing her deeper.

"Harder Britt!" She panted against shell pink lips.

Their lips and tongues battled and lost each other as Brittany began thrusting harder. Santana dug her nails into pale shoulders, moulding them closer, her deep moans mingling in with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the coffin thudding into the wall as Brittany quickened the pace once more and they rocked into each other.

She felt Brittany curl her fingers, hitting a place deep inside her that caused her to see stars behind her eyes.

"Brittany! Oh Brittany!" She chanted, as her stomach curled and her skin set ablaze.

Brittany continued to hit that sweet spot over and over. Santana's toes curled and her legs began to tremble as her body filled with delicious pleasure.

"Look at me San!" Brittany commanded, softly, "Look at me, or I will stop."

Santana wanted nothing more than to sink into this glorious feeling but she didn't want it to end when she was so close. She forced her eyes open to be met with a hot, clear summer sky full of affection. Brittany rolled the pad of her thumb over Santana's bundle of nerves sending tendrils of fire and pleasure to every inch of her. She reached up to catch Brittany in a searing kiss.

The coffin rolled and the floor shook or maybe it was just her as her legs stiffened, her orgasm ripping through her. She canted her hips to meet Brittany's every thrust, crying out over and over.

She trembled and quaked as Brittany continued to stroke her and gently brought her down her high, peppering Santana's face with sweet kisses. She wrapped her arms tighter around the blond, drawing her closer, letting out a small whimper at the loss of contact as Brittany removed her fingers.

The older vampire brought her fingers to her lips, sucking them. She hummed, grinning,

"Song bird, you taste so good."

Santana pulled her flush on top of her, kissing her lazily. She had never felt so worshipped. She had never felt so loved.

Brittany nestled into her, burying her face in the crook of Santana's neck, wriggling until they moulded together perfectly.

"Am I squashing you?"

Santana shook her head, hooking her calves around her legs, locking her in place.

"No." She husked as she her hips continued to gyrate ever so slightly as if they had a mind of their own.

She wanted to bask in the warm glow of them being together before she was forced to ruin it all by bringing up her predicament and her return to the cold, lonely darkness of her jail cell. She nuzzled her face into Brittany's hair, closing her eyes at the comforting aroma that was her sweet, adorable Britt.

She heard a whisper,

"I love you."

"What did you say?" She asked..

Brittany mumbled against her, tracing patterns on her clavicle,

"I didn't say anything."

A little disappointed, Santana returned to enjoying the tender moment. As she began to relax once more images of Lylah breaking against the cobbles of the courtyard jarred her into wakefulness. She tensed.

Brittany lifted her head, her voice full of concern,

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Santana's head jerked as she was rapidly assaulted with distorted images of Wolves, Lucinda, Sebastian being driven into a wall and herself chained in The Hole. She felt a rush of worry and heartbreak. The torrent of emotion caused her to weep.

Brittany lifted herself on her elbow, reaching out a hand to stroke Santana's cheek,

"Songbird?"

"Where are we?" Santana managed through her gulps.

"Rome." Brittany replied, in confusion.

Was this some sort of trick?

"Is this.." Santana began in disbelief, attempting to make some sense of it all.

"Real?" Brittany finished for her.

Santana nodded her head, afraid of the answer.

Brittany leaned down, catching Santana's lips in a gentle caress.

"It's real Sweetheart. You're safe now."

The words were like music to her ears. Santana clutched desperately at Brittany, muffling her sobs into the crook of her pale neck. The blond drew her fingers through raven locks,

"Why are you crying?"

Santana pulled back, gulping,

"I'm just so.. "

It was as if a huge weight she hadn't known she had been carrying had lifted.

Unable to put it into words, she pulled Brittany into a searing kiss.

X

**Ps guys I aint to good at writing the receiving of a smut scene.. I hope I did it justice.. and I hope I managed to get across what I intended … Feel free to leave a review and let me know what u think.. **


	38. Chapter 38

Hey folks, how are we all fairing after the Bram confessions? Ive managed to avoid it so far. But heres a nice chap that might make it a little more bearable.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat.**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

_Rome, 1690. The PlayHouse. _

_X_

As the weak rays of daylight dwindled upon the horizon, lazily giving way to the full hue of twilight, Charlotte rested against the veranda watching the preparations for Orin's and Lyubitshka's funeral in the square below.

A number of days had past since Charlotte had last been under the effects of the powerful spell that had sapped her strength and left her nerves shattered.

Her hearing and sight had yet to return to normal and she would break out in sudden bouts of tremors. Unable to control the quiver in her hands, she had taken to hiding them in the recesses of her loose clothing or crossing her arms and concealing them in her armpits. Outwardly it gave off an air of confidence when she felt anything but.

As each night she awoke to find her affliction un changed, she couldn't ignore the niggling thoughts of inadequacy and the fears that whispered tauntingly in the back of her mind.

What if she never regained her much loved Vampire gifts, what then?

She would no longer be able to perform her duties as a Justice Keeper and she most certainly would not be to serve as an Emissary for House Dubois.

In most cases Ambassador's were the first person introduced to new leaders or important members of the phenomenal community. They represented the power and strength of a House and in their world, first impressions were paramount. A strong Emissary spoke volumes and could deter trouble in the future. A sickly vampire would suggest weakness and as upholders of The Law, House Dubois could not afford to be seen lacking.

If she no longer had a purpose, what would she fill the long evenings of her existence with?

Would the centuries stretch before her, desolate and bleak, her boredom becoming all consuming, causing her to snap by walking out into the dawn or worse, going on a rip roaring rampage of destruction.

It was a very real possibility.

Over the centuries she had been witness to and hunted down many of her kind that had done just that. Mild mannered, quiet ladies and gentlemen, well as mild mannered as a Vampire could be, suddenly threw all the rules instilled in them from rebirth out of the window citing a lack of occupation or simply put by one unfortunate terminatee 'Because I felt like it.'

She was well aware The Council kept a watch list full of names of those that they thought may one day become unhinged and expose them. Eyes were everywhere and if news of her 'accident' reached certain ears, she knew particular factions would not hesitate to petition her name be added in order to use it to their advantage.

She hoped that her reputation would proceed and protect her, at least, until she regained her health

Shivering, the blond vampire drew the sable cloak she had commandeered further around her.

Charlotte couldn't remember ever having noticed the lack of warmth that was the signature of the undead, not even when she had been reborn. She was sure she must have but it had more than likely been lost within the new sensations and experiences of being a newborn, however, since the spell, the biting cold had become her constant companion. It was the type no fire could thaw, set deep within her bones, causing her skin to prick and her extremities to ache.

She took a sip of the steaming blood from the tankard she was currently warming her hands on, much like an old washer woman.

Those few moments when the heat of the liquid coated her throat and filled her belly gave her an all too brief feeling of normalcy and she wondered if this is what she would be reduced to, feeding out of a need, like an addiction rather than survival and enjoyment.

With a sigh she returned to watching Vargo's brethren and the Bomherwald pack continue to build the pyre whilst others carried carcasses of meat and casks of wine for the funerary feast through to the smaller square.

The loss of loved ones hung heavy and was reflected in the subdued and sombre mood of those that had survived

The gouged, smashed and in some cases seared masonry of the walls and verandas surrounding the courtyard were the only indicators that only a few days previously an epic battle had occurred within. However, nobody could ignore the faint but large blackened circles on the cobble stoned floor from the gargantuan cremation that had taken place.

Under the ever watchful eyes of Babel, the Wolves had diligently dispatched the Play House thralls and had adhered to the old gypsy regarding the disposal of the dead. By all accounts clearing out The Hole had been a gruesome affair, making grown men quail and in some cases weep. It had taken three solid days, along with two constantly manned pyres, burning on rotation to dispose of them properly.

The square had been engulfed in thick black smoke and the stink of scorched, necrotic flesh had become unbearable.

In this instance Charlotte was glad of her weakened state and lack of hypersensitive smell as the sickening and offensive stench lingered beneath the mask of charms and aroma's from the lit bowls of oils and flowers tiresomely tended to by the remaining Mystics.

They had somehow cleverly cocooned the open courtyard within a net that dispersed the choking smog, turning it into pale wisps the rest of the city would mistake for a jovial feast fire.

Ignorance was a privilege afforded to the humans. Where The Play House and the evil deeds performed here were concerned, the ignorance of man was indeed bliss and necessary.

The level of depravity one of her own kind had inflicted upon others disgusted her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Taking another sip, she reflected on what little had come to light about the creation of the blasphemous House of Bastian.

She was no fool.

She knew of the dark thoughts and twisted imaginings that lurked in the corners of the soul of humanity, held in check by fear of reprisal. Having experienced it herself, she also knew that the freedom of no longer being bound by mortal form and morality caused every vampire to dance upon the periphery of a god complex for a short while.

The power was enticing and addictive and if left unguided could turn ugly. The scene before her was a prime example.

The High Council had stringent rules and fail safes in place that was supposed to prevent such things from gaining ground.

How had such a young vampire, less than two centuries old had managed to shirk his Maker, forsake his House allegiance, rally other supernatural beings to his cause all the while keeping itoff the grapevine?

The only person to have come close to the discovery was Lucinda and that had been partly by accident and Sebastian's design.

Such wanton destruction and disregard for life couldn't have gone entirely un noticed. If the number of corpses removed from The Hole was anything to go by and the sheer amount of food needed to keep an operation of this magnitude on its feet, there had to have been a spike in missing people from the nearby slums.

The Council as a rule were vigilant at keeping each other in line, not wishing to upset the delicate balance of the treaties they had painstakingly crafted and upheld over the centuries. They gleaned over numbers and all the available information, making note of any anomalies and strange goings on that was cause for suspicion before alerting the Justice Keepers.

There was also the question of the Crusaders. Rome was the seat of their power and all this had happened in their own back yard. Surely Sebastian couldn't have been persuasive enough to infiltrate their highest ranks and curry the amount of influence needed for them to turn a blind eye?

Being too arrogant and self involved, Sebastian did not strike Charlotte as the patient type, yet what he had managed to accomplish in such a short space of time, and right under their noses, suggested otherwise.

She didn't doubt for a second the greenhorn was smart but the way he had used the continent as his personal chess board, playing a game with tactics and strategies decades in the making with a finesse the members of the House of Franz could only dream of, had shown a level of cunning, guile and control far beyond his years.

It seemed too neat and well thought out for Charlotte's liking and she was beginning to come to the conclusion that he must have had help from an outside influence.

Many of the Play House Versipellis, Vampires and Mystics had perished, or realising they were on the losing side had fled, no doubt to be hunted down by her sister in the near future. Those that had been caught were currently being held in The Pits, in marginally better conditions than their previous occupants and were refusing to talk.

Until Brittany relinquished her hold over the traitor, Charlotte doubted that any information regarding his suspected affiliates would be forth coming.

Until then all they could do was speculate but there would be time for that later.

Right now she was more concerned with her charges and what the future may hold..

It had been Kurt and the young Wolf, Charn that had come upon them in the Wolves Den, Santana resembling that of a corpse and Brittany at death's door having almost drained herself in an desperate attempt to heal her.

The tale of Brittany's willing sacrifice in order to save her lover filtered through the ranks, fuelled in part by the way in which Kurt told the tale as an epic adventure fraught with peril and a love that knew no bounds. It was enough to melt the coldest of hearts. Even her own sister had begrudgingly admitted she had melted just a little.

Even though the tale was one of chivalry and romance, it did not come without it's pitfalls. Holly and she had discussed at length what a huge swap of life force could mean for the youngsters and she wasn't quite willing to write this off as a happily ever after just yet.

Little was known about the nature of blood bonds and its effects upon the people in question. Coupled with the strange connection they already shared and the new information of Santana's lineage, it could very well spell disaster.

The older vampires had come to the decision to keep a close eye on the love birds and pray that it would go in their favour and no adverse affects would become apparent.

Neither could they ignore the fact that for a time Santana had been the Rogue whose behaviour mirrored that of Vlad and had been cause for alarm. Though the latin girl claimed she was commanded and committed these atrocities against her will, it remained to be seen if it was true or a desperate ploy to save her own neck. Either way, until it was proven Charlotte would continue to give the youngster the benefit of the doubt and treat her as she would her own.

Not entirely trusting that the Mystics in the building did not know of Santana's history, Charlotte had taken to keeping vigil over them, finding peace in watching them sleep.

The way they curled into each other, their mouths twitching up at the corners and the contented sighs that escaped them warmed her still heart and she could only imagine what dreams they frolicked in.

They were finally together and it made the loss they had all suffered a little more bearable.

She had watched with motherly affection as the grey pallor and dark circles beneath her offspring's eyes disappeared and the flesh returned to Santana's bones, her hair becoming glossy with health. She had bore witness to the confused mumblings and lack of awareness of their surroundings as she roused them, encouraging them to drink in order to regain their strength before they returned to the much needed slumber that would help them heal.

Lucinda, despite her insistence she would not share a room with the pair, had been seen on numerous occasions sneaking out at the crack of twilight, claiming she was simply retrieving a book or an all important scroll when it was quite evident the spare coffin had been slept in.

She had even caught Lucinda red handed soothing Santana's brow whilst she wrestled with what ever demons stalked her through the myriad of the shadow realms she frequented.

Psychically, the brunette looked fine but who would really know the amount of damage wrought upon her psyche from the cruel treatment she had endured at Sebastian's hands.

A shout from below roused her from her pensive mood.

"Charlie!"

She peered over the lip of the veranda attempting to find its origin. The effeminate voice continued,

"Left! Left! A little further!"

Her eyes finally landed on the young notary in the yard below, his hands on his hips and sleeves rolled up his forearms. To her, the white of his shirt no longer carried the brilliance she was used to, instead it appeared dingy like a day old snow on the slopes of their home.

Craning his neck to take her in, he informed her,

"The delivery arrived. Do you want to come have a look?"

Keeping busy and being around the upbeat youngsters was exactly what she needed. Grinning, she cajoled,

"I hope you haven't wasted my money?"

Kurt replied with mock shock,

"Miss Charlotte, I assure you when it comes to fashion, nothing is a waste" Flicking the curl of hair at his forehead, he announced. "Once I'm finished with her she shall be mistaken for royalty!"

Rolling her eyes at the young man's hubris, she chuckled. Emptying the contents of her tankard she pushed herself off the veranda, calling,

"I'll see you down there."

He smiled at her broadly before taking off with a spring in his step and disappearing from view.

X

When Charlotte had brought up the question of Santana's lack of attire the young man had trawled through every trunk and wardrobe in the building. Dissatisfied, Kurt had announced she needed a whole new wardrobe befitting of her station and Charlotte was inclined to agree.

Wishing to extend Santana the same courtesy that Brittany had been given when being presented to her Grand Dam, Charlotte had given Kurt licence to oversee the project.

At the prospect of having a free rein and unlimted funds to clothe her as he saw fit, he had brimmed with excitement. Immediately, he had cast a critical eye over her tiny frame, making notes a on scrap of parchment, whilst Lucinda joked about her proclivity towards dressing like a harlot, before taking off into the night with Charn on his heels only to return on the cusp of dawn invigorated, babbling on about material and night time robbery.

Hovering in the doorway of the wide bedroom that had once belonged to Ryder, she watched as Kurt, in his element, transformed the once slovenly hovel into a dress shop fit for the ladies of the highest social standing, giving the odd word of encouragement to the young wolf that much to Babel's chagrin, had become his constant shadow of late.

Charlotte had yet to be told what had caused the curved scar that followed his jaw line and of which he was proud showing it off to Lucinda at any opportunity, but what ever is was, was enough to have the Bohmerwald teenager hanging on his every word.

Charlotte had noticed small changes in the girl's appearance as under Kurt's tutelage, her hair became neater and her nails trimmed and clean. More surprisingly was her table manners. She no longer tore into her dinner as would be her natural behaviour as a hunting carnivore. The sight of the notary lightly swatting at her hand as she went to pick up a hunk of meat had become common place, much to the amusement of Puck who needed all the light relief he could get nursing Loren through her grief.

Preoccupied, the two young adults hadn't notice her presence as they continued to fawn and coo over the new garments. She watched as Kurt lovingly unwrapped a pretty russet tunic holding it out to the bright eyed teenager.

"Here, this is for you. Just don't tell Charlotte."

The blond vampire smirked,

"Don't tell Charlotte what?"

The youngster's spun round in surprise and Charn, sheepishly, attempted to conceal the tunic behind her back.

Charlotte arched an eyebrow, asking in mock annoyance,

"What are you hiding behind your back young lady?"

Bringing the tunic from its hiding place, the dirty blond held it out. Her face flushed with guilt, she stammered,

"I… I'm .. Ssorry."

Stepping further into the room, the older vampire let out a hearty laugh waving the young girl away,

"After all you have risked, it's the least I can do."

The young girl gave a sigh relief as she draped the tunic over the nearby coffin

Kurt scowled, chiding,

"Charlotte, that was mean."

Trailing her fingers lightly over the silken material of a bodice, she could only imagine would look stunning on Santana, she gave a side eyed glance, adding,

"I hope you bought the pants and boots to match?"

The notary bumped her hip, playfully as he leaned past her to hang a red justacorp,

"You know I did."

They where interrupted when Lucinda and Bramble came bustling through the door,

"There you are, I've been looking for you all over."

The ash blonde Justice Keeper flopped into the armchair in the corner, sullenly taking a huge gulp of the contents of the jug in her hands.

Charlotte crinkled her brow taking in her sister's demeanour. She asked,

"Is that Taint?"

Taking another gulp, Lucinda nodded. Charlotte continued,

"Is it not a little early?"

Giving a shudder, Lucinda dead panned,

"I have seen things. Things that once seen, cannot be unseen."

Kurt crinkled his dainty nose,

"What on earth is that smell?"

Charlotte sniffed. Unable to smell what her companion was sensing, she shrugged. Charn let out a strangled whine and her face burning bright with embarrassment before bolting from the room.

Kurt gave a pointed stare at Bramble who returned his look as if to say,

'It's not me."

Taking a step towards Lucinda, Kurt took a large sniff, immediately scrunching his face in disgust. Covering over his nose, exclaimed,

"You stink like a whore house!"

The Justice Keeper leapt of the chair, cursing,

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Leaning towards her sister, Charlotte picked up the tell tale musky odour.

"Oh my god, you do!"

"How would you know? " Lucinda snapped, "You can't even smell properly!"

Grinning, Charlotte quipped,

"Well, I guess that shows how much you stink then!"

Hopping from one foot to the other, Lucinda swatted at her clothes.

"Harlots." She cursed, "The pair of them!" as if in a world of her own, she continued, "All I wanted was a bit of peace and quiet but nooo I had to be witness to the Brittana fingerbang reunion!"

Kurt and Charlotte hid their guffaws. Narrowing her eyes and whirling on the pair, Lucinda screamed,

"Its not funny!"

Through their gales of laughter, Charlotte choked with amusement,

"So they are awake then?"

The cords on Lucinda's pale neck bulged as she continued on her irate tirade, gesticulating with her arms, sloshing the contents of the jug on the floor,

"Awake! Awake! There isn't a word for what they are!"

She paused, flopping defeatedly into the chair, her features became haunted as she added mournfully,

"Trapped! I was trapped! Held against my will and tortured!"

Kurt tuttted,

"Don't be so dramatic. I'm sure it wasn't that bad?"

The Justice Keeper narrowed her flashing hazel eyes, rounding on the notary

"Really Kurt? In that case why don't you share with them tomorrow eh?"

Kurt coughed awkwardly,

"No. No , I don't think it would be appropriate for a gentleman to share with two young ladies. It would be the height of bad manners."

Taking another drink, Lucinda scoffed,

"That's what I thought!"

"Right." Charlotte announced, "As much as I love hearing the two of you arguing I'm going to check on them."

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Im sure you'll hear them anyway." Lucinda muttered darkly.

Leaving the room, Charlotte was sure she heard her sister mumble,

"Loud.. so loud!"

X

**p.s .. not my best but lots of info.. let me know what you think.. **

.


	39. Chapter 39

Heya guys and dolls. Sorry its been a while but what can I say, I got a damn writers block. Those things be lethal .

So how are we all fairing after the Finale episode.. Our Britt is a genius. Whoooot! Give yourself a pat on the back if u always believed and for shame on those of you didn't. We all love smart Britt..

Now its CANON!

Any whooo…. Bram is over .. via text no less so yey to that .. Sorry Bram fans but it was incest! And it messed with my Ships of Time HC.. Another reason why Sam didn't appear in this fic.

I like Sam as a character and its always been my HC that him/San/Britt were friends. He was their super cool lesbro.. I mean come on San even had a little book of insults written out for him if he ever came back. That suggested some severe buddy feels. N then season 4 tried to ruin it . I say PAAAAA Mr Murphy!

We also got open ended Brittana … Who knows in season 6 that's what we might get.. Now Brittana fans '_if_'' San gets a girly or goes dating in S5 can we _not_ kill RIB? Britt is kinda out the picture for obv babymamma reasons.. So come on… We want our fave character to be happy right? (And we would get to see more of Naya acting the shit out of it.)

as long as Brittana is endgame!

Anyway… im gonna stop me a preaching…

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckIsinTheHat.**

**X**

VAMP VERSE.

X

Santana jolted awake as the cacophony of strong heart beats, claws upon stone, light chatter and the softer footfalls of vampires, thundered in her ears. Her body gave a slight tremor as she momentarily panicked at finding herself in unfamiliar surroundings.

Confusing images of burning pyres, a strange blond encouraging her to feed, torn bodies and ghoulish faces flickered across her mind, disorientating her further. Unable to decipher which were real and which were ghosts of the shadow realms, she instinctively reached out for the body beside her knowing she would find the protection she craved within the now familiar curves.

Clinging to Brittany, she held herself perfectly still, much like a mouse attempting to garner the where abouts of a predator, stretching every sense to its limit to gauge their situation.

From the distinctive smell and the echoing sounds she had come to know over the decades, she concluded that they remained in The Play House.

Sensing no imminent danger, she calmed herself and relaxed into the borrowed warmth of the numerous blankets and furs, letting out a sigh of relief as she nuzzled her nose into the crook of a pale shoulder and neck. She lightly pressed her lips to cool skin and Brittany let out a sleepy hum of approval, tightening her grip on Santana's shoulders, drawing her closer still.

Her fears quashed, the younger vampire moulded herself into her lover, revelling in their closeness.

Santana couldn't remember the last time she had felt so rested and invigorated. For the first time in decades, her head didn't feel as if it had been stuffed with horse hair and her muscles didn't scream in protest at her every move.

She gave an experimental flex of her fingers and toes, enjoying how for the first time in years, she felt strong and powerful.

It was strange after all this time, being able to sense and feel everything so clearly. Gone was the foggy dullness and the excessive weight that signified Sebastian's presence and control. It was as if she had been reborn again, without all the nastiness.

Santana marvelled at how Brittany could ignore the itch, similar to that of when she was human and the early morning turned to noon, demanding that she rise. She had not known a vampire could sleep so much but she didn't mind waiting, There was plenty here to keep her occupied.

Idly, the youngster fiddled with the ends of Brittany's corn silk hair, her newborn eyes making out each individual strand and how the vivid colours of wheat and glistening gold complimented each other.

Even in the dull of the funerary box's confines, her heroine's skin glowed as if under moonlight. Fascinated with the contrast of toffee against cream, she trailed the tips of her fingers lightly along the satiny soft flesh of the blond's collarbone into the dip and up along the other.

Santana couldn't believe that they were finally together, that this vision before her was tangible and real, instead of one of their common place corporeal dalliances that always left her dissatisfied and aching for more. That this time, she wouldn't be cruelly thrust back into the darkness that enfeebled and gnawed at her soul.

Picking out the mottled dust flies that floated in the refracted spectrum of blues and blacks within the depths of the coffin, she reflected upon how they had come to be here.

She could feel it in her bones that Sebastian lived, so to speak. He may no longer have complete command of her, but Santana feared that like a burrowed grub hidden within the juicy pulp of a peach, he would linger, biding his time to catch her unawares.

The Spanish girl shuddered.

Until he was dealt with, she would never be entirely free and those she held dear would never be truly safe. Her shudder of fear turned into a tremble as the rage in the pit of her stomach flared.

He had taken a simple country girl and turned her into a fiend. How silly she had been to sit on the hill that over looked the town wishing for adventure and excitement. She now understood the gravity of her Abuela's wise words

'Be careful what you wish for Hermosa.'

He never had the right! He had ripped everything of importance from her, her pride, her dignity, her family, her life and her future.

Deep down, Santana knew what she had to do.

She had to get rid of him and most of all she wanted to take her time!

Her Sire deserved to suffer the same ordeal he had inflicted upon her and numerous others.

Brittany jolted beside her, letting out a high pitched yelp, bringing Santana back to the present.

In her anger, her nails had gouged into the pale flesh of the blonde's chest, drawing blood.

Brittany furrowed her brow, rubbing the place where the wound had occurred as it healed,

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Oh my god!" Santana exclaimed, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

Her sapphire eyes twinkling with mirth, the blond teased,

"I'm sure you could have thought of another way to wake me?"

Santana grinned up at the other vampire, bashfully, before laying a light kiss to each individual place where the nail marks had been, murmuring

"I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's ok." Brittany clucked, tightening her grip on the brunette, "C'mere."

Santana craned her neck, reaching up to catch Brittany's lips in a tender caress.

Pulling back, Santana watched as her lover, with her eyes closed, licked her lips, humming in approval,

"Much better."

The blonde's eyes fluttered open and the brightness of her eyes froze the youngling in place. She could make out flecks of gold mingled in with tiny speckles of midnight blue set with in a sea of topaz. The younger vampire was almost certain that the way Brittany was looking at her with unbridled affection would cause her to blush if she could. Something within her chest swelled, chasing away the lingering shame and fury, replacing it with a feeling of devotion.

Unable to hold the intensity of the gaze she knew she didn't deserve, Santana cleared her throat and shyly averted her eyes returning to her nesting place as Brittany began to draw her fingers through her hair.

Relaxing into the touch, the Latin girl hoped that this would be the way they would face every evening rise for centuries to come and she made herself a promise as she mapped the contours of her companion that she would do everything it took to avoid it being other wise.

Suddenly there came a light knock at the door cutting into their cosy haze. Santana heard the graceful footsteps of another vampire entering the room.

The brunette could make out the distinctive sounds of things being laid out, the rustle of material and numerous lanterns being lit. Something about this vampire felt familiar yet alien and she sensed that she was not to be trifled with. A confusing torrent of attachment, tenderness and an over whelming hankering to get to the other woman rushed her. She sparked with jealousy as Brittany quivered with excitement, her face breaking into a sunbeam smile.

As Brittany reached up to push open the lid of the coffin, Santana stopped her by snapping out her hand, lighting quick, and firmly gripping her wrist. Stilling her movements, the blonde, silently, looked at her in confusion.

The brunette implored softly into the dark,

"I'm not ready."

Nodding in understanding Brittany returned to her previous position.

Nails rapped lightly on the timber above them, resounding as a boom within the space between the boards,

"Brittany. Santana. It's time to get up." There was a pause as the two youngster's sat, quietly cocooned within their hiding place. The voice sounding eerily similar to Lucinda but filled with motherly sternness, continued, "I know you're awake."

The vampire moved away from their bed towards the door, adding with a hint of sadness,

"Holly wishes you both to attend the funeral this evening. With everything that's happened, I think it would be a really nice and much appreciated gesture."

"We will be there." Brittany called out, throwing Santana an apologetic look.

"Ok. I've left breakfast and clothes out for you. I shall see you both in an hour."

There came a faint click of the door closing, heralding the vampire's exit.

Brittany's stomach rumbled and Santana's gave a sympathetic clench.

Brittany pushed open the lid with ease and gracefully alighted from their bed. She yawned and stretched before padding, barefoot, across flagstones to the small table, setting about pouring them a much needed drink

Santana remained still, her eyes unseeing as the severity and cost of her liberation hit home. How could she have been so selfish as to not have considered what others might have risked so that she could be free?

She was a monster, a murderer and she was not worthy of such sacrifice. All she had done was cause pain and loss where ever she went. She let out a whimper as she flooded with guilt and despair.

"Songbird?" Brittany asked in concern, returning to kneel beside the coffin. " What's wrong?"

Santana turned over, looking up at a face pinched with worry. Twisting the furs until her knuckles turned white, she whispered, mournfully,

"People died Britt."

Brittany reached out her hand, stroking Santana's cheek soothingly.

"I know sweetheart. But it's not your fault."

"Of course it is!" Santana growled, suddenly enraged. "They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me."

Brittany sat back on her heels, resting her forearms on the edge of the funerary box. She paused, briefly, as if gathering her thoughts before she continued, her voice firm and matter a fact.

"Santana, what Sebastian was doing here was wrong and needed to be stopped. Everyone knew exactly what they were getting themselves into when they came. Nobody forced them."

"How can you be sure?"

Pensively, the older girl picked up a mug and took a small sip. She fixed Santana with her eyes as she chewed on the inside of her cheek before carrying on,

"Of course some people came for you but many came for their own reasons. There's more going on here that has yet to be explained to me." She held out the mug to the Spanish girl, adding affectionately, "Here drink up."

Santana took the mug, nodding in thanks. She watched as Brittany hummed a happy tune under her breath, moving around the room and swaying to the music she created with a confidence the brunette could not fathom. It was as if Brittany gave no thought as to what they were and how they had come to be as she began to inspect the contents of a package upon an obviously slept in but unmade bed against the far wall.

How could she be so carefree?

Santana shook herself from her brooding thoughts and tried to focus on the what the evening before them would entail.

"Brittany," She began. The tall blond glanced over her shoulder, "I have nothing to wear."

The other vampire spun round,

"Of course you do. My Mistress wouldn't leave you to run around naked. Look!" She removed the contents of the package, holding them up for the brunette to see, breathing in wonderment, " It's beautiful."

In her hands, she held a gorgeous and beautifully tailored blood red dress. The material looked soft yet expensive.

Approaching the coffin, Brittany held out the garment in encouragement,

"Feel it San."

Santana hesitantly reached out, stroking the soft fabric.

"It's yours."

Santana looked up at Brittany, wide eyed, gasping,

"I can't afford something like this!"

Brittany let out a tinkly laugh,

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pay for it. It's a gift. You are part of House Dubois and we don't run around in rags. Kurt would have a heart attack at the thought."

Dropping the dress into Santana's lap, the blond returned to rummage through the other paper wrapped packages in the room, pulling out the contents and letting out little squeals of delight.

Santana traced her fingers over the pattern of the cleverly hidden gold stitching that ran through it. She had never seen anything so exquisite in her life, even the clothes preferred by her own Sire paled in comparison. Taking a careful sip of her breakfast, so as not to spill on it, she asked,

"What's House Dubois?"

The blond clapped her hands with glee, the edges of her sleep shirt flapping against her bare milky thighs,

"It's the House we belong to, your new family, if you will. Holly, my Grand Dam is our leader." She gushed, reeling off the names on her fingers, "Then there's Charlotte, my mistress, then her sister Lucinda, our notary, Kurt , he also sorts out our dresses, he takes fashion very seriously. Oh and Bramble. I can't wait for you to meet them!"

Santana listened, perplexed, attempting to get her head round this new information as Brittany continued to talk animatedly about people she so obviously cherished. The greenhorn watched with awe at how the other girl would bounce on the balls of her feet, giving a flick of her long hair, or how she voice laced with affection when she recalled the little details or mannerisms that made up her friends.

It had never occurred to Santana that maybe some vampires were willingly bound to one another and chose to stay with their Makers without command.

Santana could not recall at any point in her undead existence having any sorts of feelings towards Sebastian other than resentment and disdain. Even now as he sat imprisoned in his own dungeon, she swore him no loyalty and had no urge to protect him. She resented everything that chained her to him, including the blood curse he had bestowed upon her.

Not once had Sebastian behaved or hinted that his attempt at creating a House of his own was nothing more than a stepping stone in his thirst for power. If he had stated that it was also out of a need to feel something deeper, she might have pitied him, but this was Sebastian and she doubted he cared for such sentimental yearnings.

Being alone for eternity was a sobering thought. It stood to reason that some vampires would band together like little families. Vampires, like Brittany, who still behaved as if they were human, toeing the line and never quite giving the beast free rein.

Maybe if she could learn to be like that she could find a place where she belonged?

She owed Brittany and this House Dubois, whatever it was, her life and she would swear fealty right there and then as long as she could remain by Brittany's side.

The thought of actually being split from Brittany physically pained her.

She suddenly remembered a conversation she had been part of many moons before within the depths of The Pits. Cutting Brittany off mid ramble, she queried,

"Wait a second, Lucinda. Petite, blonde , a bit of a snob? She's alive?"

Brittany giggled,

"Yes! She's the one who led us here. We couldn't have found you without her."

Santana leapt up from the coffin, nearly tripping herself over in her eagerness to rise, demanding,

"Where is she? I need to see her!"

Brittany caught Santana in a bear hug, swinging the smaller girl round,

"After we get washed and changed. I don't think it would make a very good first impression if when you meet them we smell of lady kisses."

Realisation dawned on Santana. Taking a long sniff, she crinkled her nose. They really did smell like a pair of Play House harlots.

"Oh my god! Britt, we stink!"

Rubbing their noses together, Brittany mumbled against her lips, mischievously,

"Not that I mind! Now show me where the bath house is. I want to get dirty."

X

Getting ready had taken longer than they could have anticipated, what, with Brittany's wandering hands and Santana's inability to refuse her. Neither had taken into account how long it would take the both of them to figure out the loops and laces needed to hold the dress in place. Brittany had thrown herself into her own outfit of white breeches, a figure hugging, collarless white shirt, snug leather mid calf boots and a blue tunic held in at the waist by a leather belt. Santana had been quite vocal that it wasn't fair that Brittany looked so dashing and yet comfortable whilst she felt like a Christmas goose, trussed up within an inch of her life.

Brittany had coaxed her out of her faux ill temper with feather light kisses and whispered affirmations as to how stunning she looked. Topaz eyes roving over her figure confirmed it and Santana inwardly swelled with pride.

When she was handed a black, hooded cloak, Santana had crinkled her brow in confusion asking what was the point in the dress if she was just going to cover it up anyway. As Brittany wrapped her own cloak over her shoulders she quickly explained that though it was rare for a vampire funeral to take place at all, it was customary to cover their heads. It symbolised that they were children of the dark and would forever frequent the shadows.

Hurriedly they made their way along the corridor and down the stone steps that led into courtyard. The crowd was relatively small for the size of the battle that had occurred and Santana could only hope that it wasn't because they had suffered heavy casualties. Nerves getting the better of her, the youngster stopped. Tugging on Brittany's hand, she admitted, insecurely,

"Britt, I have no idea what I'm doing? What if I do something wrong?"

Brittany entwined their fingers, assuring her companion, gently,

"You won't Songbird." She gave Santana an ear to ear grin. "To be honest, I haven't a clue what I'm doing either but if we copy Kurt, we'll be fine."

As they stepped fully into the square, a young man waving over his head caught their attention. Encouraging her to follow, Brittany began to weave through the small crowd, coming to a halt beside him.

Santana's stomach churned as she observed the young man air kiss Brittany's cheeks, before his eyes alighted on her. She could make out his elfin features under his hood. He seemed to observe her coolly, cocking his head and pursing his lips. Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Santana arched an eyebrow in challenge. As if satisfied with what he saw, he offered a pale, slender hand from the recesses of his own midnight blue cloak,

"I'm Kurt. It's a pleasure to finally meet you Santana. I trust the dress fits?"

Returning the handshake, she nodded her head, smiling at him, tight lipped. She heard Brittany thank him for their clothes and enquire as to his health. Nervously, Santana tugged at the tie of the cloak at her neck. Not wishing to evesdrop on their conversation she concentrated instead on their surroundings.

The Play House courtyard had been transformed. There were no hangings or revellers and the place almost seemed eerie without the usual bards or entertainers to which she had become accustomed. The lavish furniture had been replaced with two large latticed pyres in the centre.

The flame bowls up on the corners of the walls remained unlit. Over head the moon sat high and ripe in the cloudless sky, bathing the square in its glow. The stars twinkled brightly and looked to Santana abnormally large and all together too close. She wondered if it was her vampire senses or just a trick of the light.

She felt someone loop their arm through her left and she flinched at the sudden contact. Immediately, she recognised the well spoken yet teasing tone,

"A bit jumpy are we not, Tana?"

"Luce?" She exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement at seeing her old friend. " I thought you were dead!"

"Fat chance!" Lucinda replied, bumping her shoulder playfully.

"How?" Santana began.

Somebody in the crowd cut her off, chiding,

"Shh!"

Lucinda gave the Latin girl's arm an affectionate squeeze,

"We'll catch up later at the feast."

With Brittany holding her hand and remaining close on her right and Lucinda looped through her left so that they stood shoulder to shoulder, she actually felt protected and safe.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe, she would actually be able to get through this.

X

**Hey guys so this is the first part of this chap.. the second part is mapped out and half written soooo hopefully I wont get another block. Review if you like and let me know what you think .. San's going through a bit of a confusing shift **


	40. Chapter 40

Heya folks, I know this is a shortie, but I wanted to get something out to u

**Dedicated to BetDuckIsinTheHat.**

**x**

VAMP VERSE

Chapter 40,

The air in the courtyard subtly shifted, as a quiet hush settled over the small gathering.

From the depths of the building a low drum beat began to roll. It's slow, dulcet tones ebbed with sadness. Somewhere a flute began to play, its voice lending a haunting melody to the all ready sorrowful thrum.

Silently, the four youngsters shifted with the crowd as it parted forming a corridor through which the funerary processions would pass.

The sombre beat grew louder as they approached.

From the archway entrance of the smaller courtyard strode a towering black Versipellis. He wore nothing, save for a small lion cloth to cover his modesty. He bore two large blue paw prints on his chest and two black lines beneath his golden eyes adding a terrifying quality to his already intimidating grimace as he bared his fangs. Long black braids interwoven with small stark white bones hung down his back and his rippling muscles glistened with oils.

Behind him came a large hulking girl. Her hair had also been braided but her's held flowers and beads that clacked when she walked. She was painted white from head to toe; she too wore a small lion cloth and had a blood red paw print covering her left breast. Her eyes burnt bright with unshed tears. She carried in her arms the carcass of a large lamb, its head lolled with her every movement.

From within the depths of her hood, Santana observed the rest of the procession as they passed by and made their way to the funeral pyres. Four men, heads bowed and chiselled physique on display, each with a blue whorl covering the outside pectoral and shoulder, carried the deceased.

To Santana, he looked serene as if in some peaceful slumber.

They continued on to the left hand pyre, barely making a sound as they lifted their revered cargo aloft, placing him on his final resting place. They took a step back before coming to stop in a semi circle at the head of the wooden structure, where they were each handed a burning torch.

The large girl climbed up, laying the lamb over his body. There was a flash of a knife as she slit its throat. Taking her fingers, she tenderly smeared a line on each cheek before repeating the action upon herself. Silently, her lips moved as if repeating a prayer. She then retrieved large ceramic jugs, pouring the contents over the body before climbing down and standing beside a young, tanned man who lay an arm round her shoulders comfortingly.

Another procession began to enter the square.

At the front a tall, flaxen blonde with piercing green eyes, Santana immediately recognised as a vampire, walked beside an old man, leaning heavily on a cane, dressed in bright colours with a parrot on his shoulder. Men and women dressed in similar clothing followed carrying two bodies wrapped in deep blue cloths. Upon one sat a large raven that crowed and flapped its wings.

Santana nudged Brittany, curiously inquiring,

"Who's that?"

Brittany shot her a grin, replying with pride,

"That's Holly. She's the head of our House."

Like the Versipellis', the Mystic's moved past, solemnly hoisting their fallen brethren onto the other pyre. The men and women dispersed to form a horse shoe round the structures.

A young blond girl, who looked to Santana to be barely out of her teens, stepped forward with a flaming torch handing it the old man before returning to her place amongst the crowd.

The Mystic's moved forward, pulling from the recesses of their clothing bundles of herbs which they lit upon the torch of the old man before throwing them on the pyre of their own and returning to their places. However, three remained and took to standing at the points of the compass.

Santana watched as the lit bundles flickered with vivid colours from wit in the depths of the wooden slats and kindling.

The black Versipellis took a step forward, holding up his lit torch.

The drums and flute muted, laying the courtyard in a blanket of silence broken only by the odd twitter of the birds.

Holly addressed the crowd,

"As there are different tribes and covens present, they have asked that their rituals and customs be respected. However, I have been given licence to speak these few choice words."

The members of the crowd bowed their heads in respect as the regal vampire continued, her voice strong and unwavering,

"Death is not the end for you my brother's and sister. May you find your peace in plentiful pastures and be returned to the bosom of the Gods of your choosing. We that are left behind ask only that you watch over us as we remember you as you lived."

Bells from numerous churches and chapels across the city began to chime causing the birds of the cunning folk to startle, taking off to find refuge.

As the last strike of midnight tolled, the leading werewolf and the other bearers placed the blazing torches in between the slats of the Versipellis pyre. For a brief moment the She Wolfs eyes flickered to her. Santana's gut twisted under the intense gaze and she took a step closer to Brittany seeking comfort.

At the first lick of the flames igniting the kindling, the heavy set girl collapsed into the tanned man beside her, letting out a yowl of anguish that rang out across the courtyard.

There came an almighty whoosh, as the oils caught fire, belching smoke into the dark night.

The drums and flute struck up. With military precision the Mystic's at the corners banged their staffs upon the ground in time with the beat of the Versipellis drums and as one, they turned to face away from the deceased.

Lucinda leaned closer to Santana, murmuring,

"This is highly irregular. Wolves and Mystic's hate each other as a rule and would never allow the other to be in attendance of a crossing."

The Werewolves moved into the circle, baring their fangs and pausing in various stances.

The beat of the drum picked up tempo, becoming deeper and the biped Versipellis began to move. Mesmerised, the Latin girl watched the display. It seemed to Santana that each Wolf had their own movements, no two being the same. Some were graceful and dainty like she imagined ballerina's whilst others moved with a primal need.

"What's happening?" She heard Brittany ask.

Santana strained to listen as Kurt began to explain in hushed tones,

"They are asking Mother Moon to accept the soul of the deceased by performing the dance of Mena and Dshal. It is an old legend that tells of how they came to be. In all my years I have never heard of an outsider being witness to it.."

As the Versepellis began to shake themselves out, clapping and bouncing to the beat, the notary continued,

"Dshal was a mighty warrior and Mena a young acolyte of Mother Moon. They would sneak off every night to meet each other, save for the nights when she was expected for the monthly ritual of her order.

However, one night was different. On the eve of a great battle he begged his lover to forsake her duties and meet him one last time. When the moon was high, Dshal went to their meeting place expecting to see Mena and was surprised to be met with a large white wolf wearing the necklace he had given her. Thinking his beloved had been slain, he killed the creature. As the wolf gave its last breath, it transformed into the body of his love before becoming a star in the sky."

Enraged that he had murdered one of her favoured children, Mother Moon cursed him, that when she was full and at her most powerful, he would become that which he killed.

Mena watched on in misery as her once fierce and proud warrior became but a ghost, wandering the lands. Every full moon, his lonely cries of grief and pleas for forgiveness could be heard rolling over the lands going unheeded. Unable to withstand it, Mena begged Mother Moon to take pity on him.

In her infinite wisdom, Mother Moon made him an offer. She would give him the ability to create a mate with a singular bite. Once she accepted the mark, she would become like him and any children that they may bare were to be raised in the way of the wolf. Once this task was done, she would grant him and any of his offspring that showed her devotion a place in the celestial hunt in the sky at Mena's side, becoming part of the Lupa constellation."

"That's beautiful!" Brittany breathed, giving Santana's hand an affectionate squeeze.

"Codswallop!" Santana heard Lucinda scoff, under her breath.

People around them shot the youngsters a glare causing the brunette to shrink into her cloak, making herself as small as possible.

"Luce!," She hissed, "Stop!."

"What?" Lucinda continued, "Tana, don't tell me you of all people believe in that horse shit?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe" Santana bit back, "Its what they believe that's important. If Brittany thinks it's beautiful, then it's beautiful."

The Versipellis continued to drive themselves into frenzy, rolling their eyes and contorting their faces as they threw themselves into somersaults and cartwheels.

The Mystic's suddenly raised their voices in song.

They sang of the great Lady Nature and the never ending cycle of Life. They sang of green pastures and asked that they open their arms and embrace those that had served her and would remain to do so. They sang thanks and praises, that she would protect them until she saw fit to return them to walk the land once more.

The emotion with which they prayed overwhelmed the newborn and she felt wetness upon her cheek. As the flames licked higher, she felt a great pressure threatening to erupt from her chest.

The raven's screech became louder, the colours of the Mystic's clothes became too bright and the ever changing movements of the Wolves hurt her eyes. Alien thoughts, feelings and hushed voices assaulted her and she caught a brief flash of lush fields.

Scrunching her damp eyes closed, she sucked in huge gulps of useless air, attempting to keep her emotions under control and she was grateful when she felt Lucinda tug gently on her arm, indicating that it was time for them to leave.

X

.. I dunno, I have this fiction and its character avenues in my head and I know what I want to include but it seems the Oxford Dictionary and my command of the English language keeps eluding me.

People are asking if there is any art work for Britt and Lucinda's war making uniform… Now I aint an artist so if any one would like to volunteer your more than welcome..

It would be interesting to see how people perceive things.


	41. Chapter 41

Gaaaa god.. So was everyone watching the Eurovision?

Dubstep-Opera Dracula.. Kudos.

Hmmmm and Naya is going to be 'putting out' in June …. Really, Mr Lock … We did not think that tweet through now, did we ?

Anyhoo on with the show.

**Dedicated for BetTheDuckIsinTheHat**

x

VAMP VERSE.

_Rome, The Play House_

X

In the Pleasure Room courtyard, the funerary feast was in full swing. Gone was the sombre mood, replaced with one of celebration as Versipellis' and vampires intermingled, their differences momentarily forgotten in remembrance of their fallen brethren.

However, the Mystic's, were not present, their custom dictating that they fast until the dawn rose, standing sentinel over the soul of their dearly departed, repeating prayers and casting charms to ensure their crossing.

Tables, laden with various cooked meats, breads and cheeses, lined the walls free for anyone to help themselves. Wine and mead were in abundance, evident in the way the younger pack members cavorted, playfully wrestling and nipping at each others tails.

Excited yips and joyous calls rang out against the backdrop of lively music, occasionally meet with folk songs sang in German.

Santana marvelled at how comfortable the other vampires seemed in their own skin. None of them wore the predatory look of hunger she had grown accustomed to over the years. They moved amongst the thralls and Versipelli's with an ease that belied their nature. Even Holly, in her sharp black dress looked at home sat beside the torch bearers and the departed man's relatives, their naked skin slick with perspiration.

She wondered if she could ever learn to be that composed and tame the beast that rattled the bars of it's cage, craving to be allowed to stalk the night unrestrained.

Not a few feet away, Charn patiently tried to teach Kurt and Brittany one of their tribes dances. The blond vampire gracefully twisted and turned, following the steps with ease whilst the notary flailed wildly, stamping his feet in frustration at his lack of co-ordination.

Santana tried to ignore Lucinda's gaze boring into the side of her head, waiting with bated breath for the questions that would no doubt come. She sighed inwardly as her friend, fidgeting beside her, cleared her throat,

"I was wondering if we could talk?"

The brunette took a sedate sip of her drink, ignoring the twist of guilt as she trembled with enjoyment at the sensation of it coating her throat and it's rich fresh taste.

"Is that not what we are doing?"

Running her finger round the lip of her goblet, Lucinda replied,

"You know full well, that is not what I mean."

Santana straightened her shoulders, never taking her eyes from the antics of the drunken trio, replying brusquely,

"I was in a hole, now I'm not. What else is there to discuss?"

"Santana," Lucinda began, softly, "I never meant to leave you to think you were on your own. For that, I am truly sorry."

Santana swirled the liquid in her glass, watching how it slowly slid down the sides. She had no wish to dredge up the bleak despair of feeling so alone. That in the thick darkness she been plagued by taunting visions.. That she had offered a marred soul to any god or demon that would take her and yet none had listened.

Even Satan himself refused her.

Emptying the contents of her glass, she lightly patted the Justice Keepers knee, giving her a tight lipped smile,

"You did what you thought was best."

Silently, the two girls returned to watching the dancing trio. Lucinda snorted as Kurt tripped over his own feet, careening into a disgruntled Versipellis who shoved him, depositing him on his haunches in the dirt.

Brittany and Charn let out a screech of laughter as the notary struggled to rise on his unsteady legs, finally imploring the blonds to help.

Picking up the jug at her feet, Lucinda chuckled, stating,

"He really can't handle his Taint."

Grateful at the change of topic, Santana held out her glass, adding in bemusement,

"I can see that."

Lucinda poured the crimson liquid, filling the youngster's glass to the brim as Brittany and Charn half carried, half dragged Kurt across the courtyard, dumping him on an over stuffed armchair.

Santana couldn't help the broad smile that broke across her face as Brittany slid into the spot beside her, entwining their fingers as if second nature,

Kurt suddenly laughed, shrilly, kicking his heels against the ground and clutching his stomach.

"What's so funny?" Lucinda demanded.

He sing songed broken by little hiccups,

"Three little vampires sitting in a row."

The three girls on the sofa shared a look of confusion. Kurt continued,

"It's the Unholy Trinity!" He pointed a finger at each vampire, starting with Brittany, "Sugar, Spice and an god awful bitch!"

Lucinda leapt from her seat, diving on the young man who squealed in surprise. Santana, Brittany and Charn roared with laughter as they watched the two friends grapple. Lucinda, gaining the upper hand flung the boy on the ground, diving on his back in one fluid, swift move, angrily demanding,

"Take that back!" Sitting on his haunches, she shook him by the back of his waistcoat, "I am the Law!"

Kurt's arms flopped uselessly as he choked on his giggles, only enraging the Justice Keeper further. Catching him by the ears, she twisted them.

"I _am_ the Law, Kurt! Say it or help me Methuselah I shall burn all your clothes when we get home!"

Kurt shrieked, kicking his legs in an attempt to dislodge her.

"Oww! You are the law!"

"I can't hear you!" She demanded once more,

He bellowed,

"You _are _the LAW."

Jumping up in triumph, Lucinda brushed the dirt of her knees, announcing,

"Damn right!" She snapped her fingers, pointing at the rest of them, "Don't you forget it!"

Rolling on his back and rubbing his ears, Kurt shouted,

"You have anger issues Fabray!"

The sound of a table breaking and screams of Loren cut into their revellery. Out of the corner of her eye, Santana spied the hulking She Wolf bearing down on them, clearing the square in gigantic strides. Charn leapt up, snarling and was swatted out of the way as if a rag doll. Out of instinct, Santana launched herself up and clung to the underside of the veranda. Scrambling out of the way, she felt the ghost of a meaty hand catch her dress and she pulled herself over the lip of the masonry.

She flipped round to take in the scene below her.

Kurt had rushed over to attend to the frail girl, whilst Lucinda stood protectively in front of Brittany.

Loren broke free from the strong pack members attempting to hold her back., her face contorting with rage and the chords on her neck standing out as she snarled up at Santana,

"This is your fault! He's dead because of you!"

Lucinda shoved the heavy set girl in the chest with so much force she careened into the dirt,

"Shut your mouth!"

"Get out of my way, blood sucker!"

Lucinda challenged,

"Make me, if you can get off your fat arse!"

With a speed that belied her size, Loren lunged at the Justice Keeper, catching her by the tunic. The two girls skidded across the flagstones, snarling and hissing as Lucinda ripped and tugged on the other girl's braids.

Holly rose, slamming her hands on the table, demanding,

"Lucinda Fabray! Enough!"

Pack members broke the girls apart. Loren continued to struggle against the men, swiping at the blond vampire, who nonchalantly began fixing herself,

"Any time, any where Troll!"

Loren continued to scream,

"It should have been you burning out there! It should have been you!"

Brittany started to move towards the Versipellis only to be caught round the waist by Lucinda who began murmuring in her ear. .

Wailing in grief, Loren ceased her struggles, sinking to her knees and into the arms of her friends.

Santana caught Brittany's bright blue eyes, full of worry over the top of Lucinda's shoulder as the Justice Keeper continued to hold her grounded.

All eyes of the gathering stared up at Santana, their agreement with Loren's words evident on their faces. Biting back a sob, she took off, the calls of her name only spurring her on.

X

She ran blindly, paying no heed as to where her feet carried her, wishing to create as much distance between the accusing stares and the words that carried grains of truth.

They bounced in her head, mocking her idiotic notions that maybe she could start a fresh.

She pressed on, weaving this way and that through the bowels of the Play House.

How much more grief and suffering would she cause?

As long as she was around, Brittany and all she held dear would be in danger.

The sound of her footfalls changed from the slap of flagstones to the dull thud of earth. Furiously, she wiped at her face, her hands coming away coated in blood.

Even her tears taunted her.

Taking in her surroundings, she was surprised to find herself in the one place she never thought she would return. From her hazy memories, she noticed the Verspellis' barracks had changed.

The smell of rotting flesh, urine and excrement was gone. The floor had been covered in fresh rushes. The decrepit furniture had been replaced with new and comfortable looking cushions. A lone brown and orange mottled creature that resembled a wolf, looked up from gnawing on a large bone amongst a pile of furs.

She looked around the empty room to be met with silence, broken only by the pants of the strange looking wolf. . He sat up, cocking his head and letting out a keening whine as he watched Santana step further into the cavern.

Ignoring him, she took small, tentative steps, coming to halt before the portal that lingered in her nightmares.

She closed her eyes, the flat of her palms hovering over the cool surface. She could feel her Sire, chained and weakened his commands but a tickle in her mind and muscles. She wondered at the state of their connection and if she would be able to cause him harm.

She remembered, the evening of her rebirth she had been so close.

Could she muster the strength to tear the door from it's hinges and drive a stake through his cold, dead heart, having done with it all?

Without warning she was overcome with a sense of anxiety, her body ached and her head began to throb. Ever since she had woken, she had felt like a small ship tossed upon the waves of stormy seas, her temperament turning on a six pence as she experienced conflicting emotions. She wondered if this was some sort of residual after effect as the link between her and Sebastian dwindled.

She startled when a cool and well spoken voice echoed off the cavern walls,

"Given the nature of your relationship with the prisoner, some people may see your mere presence here as treasonous."

Staring at the door that separated her from her Sire, Santana replied in a murmur,

"I just want to know.. Why? ….. Why me ?"

The familiar voice, stated matter a fact,

"You will not find the answer you seek, little one."

Turning on her heel, Santana, spat,

"How would you know?"

A blond woman, who looked as if she was dressed for the coldest winter, leaned against the door jam, seemingly unfazed by the youngling's bout of temper,

"Sebastian is the type of creature who enjoys others suffering. If he for one moment thinks he has something you want, he will do anything in his power to keep it from you. Surely, you, Miss Lopez, of all people understand this?"

Santana narrowed her eyes, suspiciously,

"You sound like Lucinda. Who are you, anyways ?"

As the woman entered the room, it seemed to Santana that her every move held a slight hesitation, as if carefully planned out before being executed. Apart from her odd gait, she exuded authority, carrying herself with dignity and poise. With a friendly tone, the blond answered,

"For now, think of me as your guardian, and who knows, in the future I may become something more."

From what the Latin girl could see, the woman was strikingly beautiful,

"You're hot and everything but I'm spoken for." She paused, "Besides, I don't really go in for older women"

The vampire arched an eyebrow, letting out a light laugh,

"You are aware that Brittany is 40 years your senior?"

Her eyes, never leaving the woman, she corrected herself,

"Older looking women"

Seating herself on a nearby chair, the blond inspected her nails, batting back,

"Are you normally in the habit of insulting your potential future Maker –in- law?"

Flaring with embarrassment, Santana opened and shut her mouth like a fish, garbbling,

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Charlotte chuckled, patting the seat beside her,

"Come sit."

Santana slumped into a near by chair, trying to hide her shame in her hands and letting out a muffled groan.

Trust her to insult Brittany's Mistress and the first time they meet, no less.

She startled as she felt a furry head, rest lightly on her knee.

Wishing to be left to her melancholy, she gently shoved the creature away and was surprised when he gave a small yip in annoyance, returning to dump his whole head in her lap. Peering from out of her splayed fingers, she was met with big brown eyes, regarding her, dolefully.

Charlotte swatted at the wolf,

"Bramble, leave her alone."

His singular, over large, misshapen ear twitched and he let out a huff in reply. Santana wishing to find something to distract herself from her embarrassment, reached out, scratching his head and his bushy tail began to thump, fanning rushes across the floor. He rested a huge paw on her knee, inclining his head to expose the ruff of his neck. Scratching a little harder, Santana let out a small giggle as the strange animal's black tongue lolled, looking as if he was smiling.

She found, running her tanned fingers through soft, mottled fur, relaxed her as bright hazel eyes continued to observe her. Charlotte offered, sagely,

"We are predators, its in our nature to feed. It is up to you to figure out a way of how to come to terms with it. I'm not saying it shall be easy but it will get _easier._"

Santana paused her petting, laying her hand upon Bramble's broad head, allowing her newly appointed guardian's words to sink in. Charlotte lay a feather light touch on her arm to catch her attention, her tone brimming with sincerity,

"Santana, just remember, you don't have to face this on your own. You have people around you that care about you and are willing to help you, if you will let them."

Ducking her head, she resumed scratching behind Bramble's ear, grinning to herself as he closed his eyes and kicked his hind leg in delight.

X

**Let me know what you think ladies and germs .. Not my best.. and yes I flung my notepad in frustration across the café where I write.. Yup, they are used to me going on a coffee rage.. **


	42. Chapter 42

Hey folks, sorry for the wait.

Kinda got distracted with the few days of nice sunshine Ireland was blessed with. (No doubt that will be the only bit of summer we get)

How are we all fairing now that Glee is over?

**Dedicated to **BetTheDuckIsinTheHat

X

VAMPVERSE.

X

_The Play House. Rome._

_X_

As she approached the living quarter's that had become Holly's temporary residence, even with her sub standard senses, Charlotte could hear raised voices as clear as if they were spoken beside her. Thralls shuffled past her as fast as their feet would allow, fearful that the wrath from within would be turned upon them.

"Lucinda Fabray, if you _ever_ behave in that fashion again I will not hesitate to relegate you to information collection duties!"

Charlotte winced as she heard her sister begin to protest,

"But Holly!"

Their Mistress cut her off, roaring,

"No, Lucinda! We are the Keepers of the Law and are expected to conduct ourselves as such, not brawl in the dirt like a common ruffian. And at a funeral, no less! What were you thinking?" There was a brief pause before she continued. "Actually I don't want to know. Just get out of my sight!"

The heavy oaken door was wrenched open with so much force it banged into the inside wall and shook in its frame.

Lucinda stepped into the passageway wearing a thunderous expression. Bumping her sister roughly in the shoulder, she spat,

"Goody Two Shoes!"

Stunned, Charlotte spun with the momentum of the collison as Lucinda stormed down the corridor, screaming and pushing thralls out of the way.

Rubbing her sore shoulder, the older Fabray cautiously pushed open the door. Recently, Holly had been quick to anger and Charlotte wondered if it might not be best to give her time to calm down. But her Mistress had summoned her and it was her duty to obey. With conflicting emotions, she took a hesitant step through the entrance.

The room was spacious and comfortably furnished, suggesting that the previous occupant spent many an hour there. Black, lacquered wooden structured archways lined the walls. At the apex of each arch was a detailed carving of a rams head, their fierce horns curling out, wide and full. At the top of each, ridged supporting column, bare breasted figureheads, their hair fashioned into Romanesque curls, reached their arms back to hold afloat ignited oils housed within open topped glass globes.

Every curve of their taunt chests, muscles and facial expression was caught in exquisite detail, the smooth polish of the wood adding the illusion of a glistening sheen garnered from the strain of their endeavour.

The small lanterns leant their feint light into the room, unable to illuminate the farthest corners. No doubt to Holly the room was bathed in a light dusk, where to Charlotte, in her enfeebled state every recess was shrouded in deep shadow.

Beneath the arches were layered shelves, each housing something different. Some held sculptures of fine art, small casks of rare wine or books. Others held coiffeurs of gold and jewels, the revenue from the indulgences once offered by the Play House, which were now under Dubois claim.

With a name like Medici on the client list, she could only assume that what they had found was only a fraction of Sebastian's ill gotten gains.

Charlotte had to hand it to the Traitor, he had found a lucrative way in which to fund his operation that kept him off the Watcher's radar but also a way to make himself filthy rich in the process.

Luckily for the Justice Keepers a perk of the job was that anything they found that belonged to the Judged, they could keep in order to pay towards financing their operation. More often than not, it consisted of clothes, thralls that were of no use without their Masters, or the odd horse and carriage. Yes, on occasion they had laid claim to buildings, hence their currant home, but it would seem this time they had hit the jack pot.

Kurt would at some point begin the arduous task of cataloguing every florin and jewel, making the necessary deductions of the battle, the funerals and two gifts of offerings to be paid to the Bohmerwald pack and the Mystics..

Offerings were not common but in this case with the rumours of the gold it could not be avoided. Kurt would send his usual fee to House Franz, after that, the rest fell to Dubois. Holly would be fair, making sure everyone got their share, including the notary and the liberated newborn.

Unbeknownst to Brittany, whilst they had travelled Europe, Charlotte had dispatched many creatures and made many investigations, meaning she had collected quite a bounty and by association so had her offspring. The youngling was actually comfortably wealthy and if Santana was brought into the fold it wouldn't be long before she was too.

Behind a large, chestnut, mahogany desk with claws for feet, Holly sat, head bowed in concentration, surrounded by huge leather bound ledgers and scrolls. The scratch of quill upon parchment was the only sound to pervade the silence as she documented things of importance. Signing the parchment with a flourish, she placed the quill back in the ink well before flopping back in the chair with an exhausted sigh, rubbing her face with her slender hands.

Charlotte basked in the moment of the seemingly mundane scene before her. It brought her back to the long nights, before she was rebirthed, when they would sit in one of the private rooms enjoying each others company. Shaking herself from her moment of reflection, she stepped further into the room, chastising affectionately,

"Nana, you do too much."

Holly's eyes snapped open and the other vampire registered the tiny flicker of surprise in her features.

Their kind did not grow old, one of the many blessings of an undead existence but it did not mean that they didn't age. If you were able to catch a vampire off guard and you were perceptive, you could read a vampire's life story in their eyes.

Holly's normally luminous green eyes were dark and murky like a swamp.

She was used to seeing her one time lover push herself above and beyond the call of duty, but something about this particular case was weighing upon her. It was almost as if she was taking it personally.

Charlotte came to a halt behind her Dam, lightly resting her hands on hunched shoulders, asking, as she gently began to massage them,

"Tell me whats troubling you?"

Holly relaxed into her touch, inclining her head forward to give her offspring better access. Charlotte worked in silence, drawing flaxen hair to one side as she worked her fingertips into taunt muscles and up along the expanse of Holly's nuque., causing her to let out a small, pleasurable moan.

Charlotte returned to deftly kneading her shoulders through the soft material of her dress, putting as much strength as she could into her thumbs. Holly broke the comfortable silence, murmuring with concern,

"What do we do when the Mystics come?"

The younger vampire pressed into a particular hard knot, hiding in the cleft of a shoulder blade. Holly let out a little hiss that turned into a small gasp, as the miniscule rock hard bump began to loosen.

If the Mystics discovered the young girl was alive they would no doubt come looking and their arrival would cause complications. If asked out right Holly would be expected to hand the youngling over. To deny the cunning folk would only serve to involve the Elders and if they deemed that Santana be sacrificed to keep the peace then House Dubois would be in no position to refuse.

Charlotte, boldly stated,

"We deal with them as we have always done, with diplomacy and tact."

Holly's shoulders bunched slightly beneath Charlotte's touch,

"What if they ask for her?"

Stalling her hands, Charlotte leant forward and pressed a comforting, feather light kiss to her crown, crooning,

"Shhh my love. It won't come to that."

Not to be swayed from her currant train of thought, Holly continued, apprehensively,

"But Charlie, what if it does?... What then?"

Charlotte mulled it over. The young girl had suffered enough and did not deserve to be turned over, like a piece of meat, to a bunch of Witches and Warlocks. She had heard of their practises concerning those they deemed 'Undesirable', in order to protect their precious Summerland.

The only layer of protection House Dubois could offer, without going against the wishes of the High Council, was to prove that Santana served a purpose.

Beginning to work on the column of the older woman's spine, Charlotte tactfully offered,

"We tell them that she is detrimental to our investigations and is in our custody until we deem otherwise."

"What happened here will not stay quiet for long, someone will talk and the Council will ask for an explanation."

The younger blond understood that with the liberties awarded to the Justice Keepers so that they might carry out their duties with as little fuss as possible, it was only to be expected that they also be watched.

She respected the Councils, she really did, but she had always felt that many members did not appreciate or understand just how difficult their job was.

She doubted that any of them had hunted down a deranged Wolfman, before the local village's angry mob discovered them.

That they had travelled far from home, Makers, Offspring and other creature comforts, sometimes for years.

Nor had they looked into the glinting eyes of a cornered Rogue that had nothing to lose.

The members of House Dubois put themselves in harms way in order to protect the phenomenal community from the outside _and_ from within and it irked Charlotte that even after all that, if something went wrong, it was the Justice Keepers that bore the brunt of the blame.

It had happened once before.

With a hint of annoyance, Charlotte retorted,

"We were simply doing that which we are sworn to do. Protecting our existence! How were we to know the extent of what was happening here?"

Her forearms began to ache from the exertion of her ministrations. Behind the back of the chair, the younger vampire flexed her knuckles and wriggled her fingers to alleviate the cramp that was beginning to take hold. She let out a small huff of air, hoping that Holly hadn't noticed how her normally firm touch had been reduced to uncertain fumbling. Hiding her trembling hands within the folds of her skirt, she seated herself in the russet armchair the other side of the desk.

Deep in thought, Holly drummed her fingers on the table top. Suddenly as if coming to a decision, she began rifling through the numerous reams and scrolls of parchment announcing,

"I want Brittany to relinquish her hold on Sebastian. We need to question him and find out what he knows. "

Settling back into the comfort of the cushions, Charlotte chuckled darkly,

"I'm sure that can be arranged," She crossed her legs at the knee, straightening out the material of her skirt, "I should think that by now he shall be more than willing to answer any of our questions."

Finding the scroll she was looking for, Holly let out a small yell of triumph, before throwing the scroll at her offspring,

"Here's a list of potential witness's in case we are accused of fabricating the evidence. Check them out and feel free to add any suggestions."

Charlotte teased open the delicately knotted ribbon. Unfurling the scroll, she began to read the list of names written in Holly's distinctive loopy cursive.

"Babel has asked that a member of the Bohmerwald be present."

The older woman reached for yet another scroll, rolling it out and pinning the top down with a slender brass weight that resembled an oriental dragon,

"As to be expected."

From the comfort of her chair, Charlotte continued to read, surprised to find her sister didn't appear. It was rare that an inquisition occurred as they tended to dispatch a law breaker in the field, but when they did, Lucinda usually spearheaded the project. Peering at Holly over the top lip of the paper in her hands, she queried,

"What about Lucinda? Surely she is the best for the task at hand?"

Opening the drawer beside her, Holly removed a leather pouch and a handful of sweeping feathers. Unrolling the pouch, she allowed her fingers to dance lightly over the numerous utensils, snugly set in their allotted places,

"I don't wish for any of the youngsters to be any where near this,"

The eldest Fabray observed as Holly began to go though the different feathers, turning them this way and that, pressing the tip against her index fingertip. Satisfied with her selection, she teased a small knife from the pouch and began to make miniscule incisions to the bone tip of the sweeping feather.

"The girls deserve their vengeance."

Looking up from her task, Holly gave her a bright smile,

"And they shall have it, after we obtain everything that we need."

Charlotte quirked an eyebrow, reciting the Justice Keeper's personal motto,

"Ut tenuis unus Dubois est ut tenuis totus!"

"Exactly!" Holly exclaimed. Holding up the feather's tip to the light, she added, "Ask Lucinda to take them on a hunt."

Charlotte froze at Holly's request. No way was Santana ready for such a test. In her opinion, the girl was fragile, vulnerable and barely keeping it together..

The battle that raged within the youngling was apparent. Charlotte had looked into her tortured eyes and had seen the two demons staring back. To force her to face herself might only serve to push her over the edge and until Charlotte knew more about the blood bond and its potential effects on both the newborns, she was not willing to risk it. Keeping her features fixed so as not to alert Holly to her fears, she said,

"Maybe its best we wait until we return home. At least there, the youngsters can let off a little steam without worrying about the Crusaders."

Holly languished back in her chair, drawing the feather through her hand, fixing her offspring with her bright eyes, mulling over Charlotte's suggestion. She gave a small off handed shrug,,

"Perhaps you're right." She beckoned Charlotte, crooking her finger, murmuring softly, "Come here."

Grinning, Charlotte rose from her seat, the scroll forgotten, and approached the other vampire who watched her with a keen interest.

Suddenly an arm wrapped round her waist, pulling her sideways into Holly's lap, causing her to let out a small squeak of surprise. With one arm draped over Holly's shoulders, she reached over, tucking a rogue wisp of hair behind her Dam's ear. She tenderly trailed her fingers over silken skin at the hinge of Holly's jaw, the pad of her thumb caressing her cheek.

Charlotte savoured how a soft smile appeared on her Dam's face and how her eyelashes fluttered at the contact. Even after all these centuries, it never ceased to amaze her how much they could convey with a simple touch. Leaning down, she pressed a lingering kiss to satiny, cool lips.

Pulling back, she was met with glinting green eyes. The intense gaze caused the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Holly whispered,

"You make me so proud."

Fisting the material front of her dress, Holly tugged her gently back down to take Charlotte's top lip in between her own, slowly and sensually sucking and nibbling. Her tongue flickered out to meet Charlotte's who let out a tiny pleasurable moan.

She felt a light pressure against her chest, breaking their lips apart. Not wanting the moment to be over, Charlotte chased Holly's lips, pouting when the firm but gentle hand, pressed a little harder.

" As much as I want to, we can't do this, not now."

Resting their foreheads together, Charlotte whined,

"Why?"

Her Mistress lovingly stroked her face, staring affectionately into hazel eyes, blown wide with arousal,

"Because I don't want to hurt you."

"But you wont! " Charlotte began,

Holly cut her off with another chaste kiss,

"Sweetheart, I know you're still ill."

Charlotte's eyes flew open, in surprise and her fingers ceased their movements. Rubbing soothing circles into her back, Holly chuckled,

"I've known you for centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something or when something is wrong with a single glance."

Keeping her grip on the woman in her lap, she leaned forward, grasping a small book from the table. Settling herself back into the comfort of the chair, she tapped Charlotte's hip, encouraging her to get cosy.

Charlotte wriggled until she was comfortable, resting her head on Holly's shoulder. Silently she began to trace the light pattern in the material of her dress.

Holly pressed her lips to her forehead,

"Are we snug, my pet."

Charlotte nodded, nestling further into her caring protector and closing her eyes.

Taking a deep, useless breath, Holly opened the book and began to read aloud.

X

**So ladies and germs, tell me what you think? Am not 100% pleased with it.**


	43. Chapter 43

Well ladies and germs , how are we keeping this fine summer. Good luck to those of you that are currently sitting exams, finishing up the year/projects/ applications and what not. Hope you all get the results and places your looking for .

Also I would like to say thankyou for your reviews, mails and continued support. I hope ur enjoying this story as much as I am writing it.

On another note, I'm totally in love with Spotify.. (You should totes check it out)

Naya is on it with Supermassive. With her supposedly 'putting out' in June, who knows maybe we shall see her up on there with a lot more choons so we can rock out.

Any whoooo. Now's time for a well deserved drinkypoo to go along with my fantastic tan and horrific cold.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat. **

**x**

VAMP VERSE .

X

_1698 The Play House. Rome._

x

Santana sat high up in the roof tops of The Play House, cocooned in the comforting embrace of its shadows. Brittany and Lucinda had been called into some meeting with Charlotte and unable to find Kurt, she had decided to make herself scarce.

Up here, the air was a little less close and barmy and the evening sky was painted in a beautiful spectrum of pinks and lilacs that gradually gave way to light cerulean and midnight blues.

By all accounts the last few days had been scorching, evident in the way the Wolves had taken to sleeping all day, deep in the cool chambers underground and the pungent smell of the sewers wafting from the grates.

Through the material of her dress and the soles of her bare feet, she could feel the heat seeping out from the sun baked tiles, warming her in a way she had not felt in eons. If she squinted, she could see the heat coming from the roof tops in waves.

She liked it up here, far away from prying eyes and the curious stares that had become common place since the incident at the funeral. It was almost peaceful and granted her a small amount of solace.

From her vantage point, the Spanish girl could see far out across the cityscape. On the horizon, the silhouettes of the rooftops etched beautiful patterns into the sky line. Angels, Saints and gargoyles were occasionally broken by soaring spires topped off with the taunting symbol of an after life she would never see.

The noises of the metropolis lay muffled beneath a blanket of heavy, muggy warmth. Occasionally the bells of one of the many chapels would ring out, calling the cities occupants through their open doors, enticing them to impart their sins of the day and beg of God's forgiveness. It brought back memories of her Abuela, the Sunday morning rush, the droning of the Father up in his pulpit, sweetness of the wine and the silliness of the things she had once deemed worthy of confession.

Santana wondered if she would still be welcome through such doors, if the priests would quail at the details of her list of sins and whether the Hail Marys would be slip easily from her tongue, now that she was aware of the hypocrisy that occurred with in the Vatican's walls.

Her favourite time was the interlude when the city folk would return to their homesteads, lighting the lanterns within their abodes. The windows of the surrounding villas and town houses would light up, flickering in the distance like fire flies in the lazy summer evenings that had belonged to another Santana Lopez. In these brief moments she could almost convince herself that she was normal, that she was still a prestigious doctor's daughter with her whole future ahead of her.

She would imagine Hudson, his clumsy, graceless feet announcing his arrival, thumping himself down beside her, maybe his thick uncoordinated fingers would offer out a wine skin and maybe he would fumble his words in an attempt to, yet again, ask her out on a date, which she would more than likely politely decline.

No doubt he would be an old man by now, maybe even in the ground but unlike her, he would probably stay put.

She almost regretted how much she had called the sweet natured boy an idiot but he had been _her_ idiot and she had never meant it maliciously, well rarely anyway. It surprised her that on occasion she found herself yearning for him and what he represented.

A simple, gentle existence.

Not that she would give up Brittany, not in a million years. Her feelings towards the blond were the only pure and untainted thing in her life and she could not imagine having never met her, but she could not help but wish it was under different circumstances. That their first shared dreamscape, on a rustic farm with a humongous tabby cat called Tubby and rabbit every Friday, was their actual reality.

It was then that she would be consumed with a jealousy of the human beings she would glimpse through the windows of the villas and houses, relaxing in their rooms, continuing their lives in blissful ignorance.

She gave a small smile as a squawk and the tapping sound of talons upon the tiles caught her attention. She pulled out a stale bread roll she had hawked from the left overs of the Werewolves dinner. Breaking off a tiny piece, she tossed it a small way from her and watched as it bounced down the groove of the shingles, coming to rest against a raised lip.

Her avian companion gave her look as if to say it was not impressed that it was expected to move for the tasty offering.

She was almost certain it was the same raven from the funeral, but she couldn't be entirely sure. The first time she had come up here it had made it's annoyance at sharing its roost known by attacking her, after that they had settled in an uneasy truce of blatantly ignoring each other. Every now and again she had caught it looking at her with a level of intelligence that almost scared her. It was as if it was sizing her up.

Over the last few evenings, the creature seemed to have begrudgingly become accustomed to her presence. It would still caw in warning if she got too close or moved too quickly, snapping at her with its large beak and flapping its huge wing span, but the distance between them as it settled itself had become smaller over time.

She watched as the bird crab stepped over the roof, inching its way to reach the crust. She broke off another piece, tossing it inches from her feet. It cocked its head before giving a ruffle of its feathers, moving its wings into the smallest shrug.

Cautiously it approached, its beady brown eyes watching out for any trickery she might attempt. Extending its neck, it jabbed at the bread, pulling it a little closer before tipping back its neck and swallowing it whole. It looked, expectantly, between the roll in her hands and the shingles were it rested.

Breaking off a hunk, Santana held out her hand, palm upwards and began making feint clucking sounds with her tongue,

"Luca" She coaxed, softly.

When she had first attempted to entice the bird, the name had rolled naturally off her tongue. She had no idea if the creature was male or female but it had seemed to respond, or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed the bird resembled a Luca.

Santana held a useless breath as it hesitantly approached. It fixed her with an intense glare, as if warning her not to get any ideas, before dipping its head and snatching the bread from her outstretched palm. She forced herself to keep her hand out, ignoring the strange sensation as it nipped at her fingertips.

She was mildly surprised and bit back a girlish squeal as it ducked its head, nudging her knuckles as it demanded to be stroked. She ever so slightly wiggled her fingers, delighting in the silkiness of its gleaming, jet black feathers.

The bird manoeuvred itself to sit closer to her thigh. She painstakingly kept her movements to a minimum, not wishing to startle the creature, as she very slowly lowered her hand to lightly scratch the dip between its wings. It shook its tail and rose its back up to meet her touch. She gently stroked its head and marvelled when it closed its eyes, letting out little noises of content.

A noise from the square below shattered her sweet, minor victory. The hairs on her arms stood on end and an involuntary shudder rippled through her. Sensing the sudden change in her mood, the raven let out a frightened squawk, taking flight and coming to rest on the safety of a chimney stack nearby.

She would recognise that sound anywhere.

Flipping herself onto all fours, Santana crawled down towards the lip of the roof, her fingers digging into the slates to steady her descent. A fall from such a height wouldn't kill her but she still had no wish to find out how much it would hurt if she was to tumble hundreds of feet into the square below.

Her stomach clenched in dread as she observed the Versipellis, their muscles straining and glistening with sweat as they leant their weight into the ropes.

A commanding voice called,

"Heave!"

The men grunted under the weight, their feet digging into the cobbles as the hideous contraption lumbered over the stone work, the crunch of the wheels echoing off the walls.

"Heave!"

What were they pulling that out for?

She continued to watch with interest, her curiosity taking over her fear. It was like a carriage crash, she couldn't look away.

Holly came into view, making determined strides across the courtyard. The regal blond gestured to the men and they continued to pull the monstrosity.

"Heave!"

Once more it lurched forward with a rumble, mechanical and soulless.

Satisfied as to its position, Holly motioned for them to stop. There a came a thunk as solid wedges were dropped behind the wheels to lock it in place. It sat there, strangely ominous and foreboding in the centre of the square that had once held such frivolity.

The Spanish girl's limbs shook and her wrists burned in remembrance at being trapped within its harsh and unforgiving grasp. The tiles cracked beneath her grip, the sound ringing out sharp and clear. She scooted back into the shadows as Holly peered from beneath her hand in the direction of the youngling.

A sudden movement, out of the corner of her eye caused the youngster to jump and let out a tiny yelp. She heard a familiar voice,

"No fear Miss Lopez, it's only me."

"Kurt," Santana breathed, clutching at her heart "You gave me such a fright."

The notary chuckled lightly, stepping out of the shadows and approaching her with confidence, as if he was meandering across a ballroom and not high up in the heavens,

"I assure you, it was not my intention." He gracefully lowered himself near her, flicking out the tails of his Justacorp so as not to sit on them. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

Santana shook her head, pulling herself back on her haunches to move further up the umber coloured shingles, closing the gap between them,

"I thought I was the only one that came up here."

Kurt gave her a smile and quirked his eyebrow in amusement, as he lightly mocked,

"Miss Lopez, your hiding place is not so secret."

"Oh." She murmured softly. Rubbing the dirt from the heels of her hands, she added, "Its quiet up here. It gives me time to think."

"Ah." The young man nodded knowingly, "It is quite beautiful, especially on a night such as this."

There was a lull in conversation as they both took a moment to appreciate the view before them. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Kurt occasionally sneaking glances in her direction. She began to pull small bits of weeds from out of between the grooves in the tiles, before tossing them away from her and watching as they rolled down the rooftop. Kurt broke the silence,

"May I ask, Miss Lopez, what is your opinion on torture as a form of punishment?"

Slightly taken aback by his sudden directness, she snapped her head round to look at him. His expression was impassive, almost as if he had asked her how she deemed the weather. Santana let out a huff of disbelief that he seemed so blasé about blind siding her with such a loaded question.

Taking a few moments to get over his perceived rudeness, she gathered her thoughts.

Yes, in the past when she was human she had enjoyed resorting to violence or rather the threat of it in order to gain what she wanted., They had always been idle but delivered with just enough conviction to be believable. She had enjoyed being feared and liked the power it had granted her.

But now she had witnessed _true_ violence and it's fall out, she had realised she suddenly wasn't a huge fan and yet there was one deep in the bowels of the Playhouse who deserved not a lick of mercy.

How did she explain it without sounding like a complete hypocrite?

Choosing her words carefully, she replied,

"I think in some cases, the ends justify the means."

Once more they lapsed into silence, listening to the backdrop of sounds as the city around them breathed. Kurt stretched out, resting back on his elbows. Luca cawed softly into the night. Unable to take the swelling tension, she snapped irritably,

"What?"

If Kurt was surprised by her sudden outburst, he didn't show it. Rolling onto his side and propping himself on his elbow, he asked,

"I was wondering if you be so kind as to give me an example?"

Fixing him with a glare, she sniped in annoyance,

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask me instead of pussy footing about?"

Returning her stare with a stony one of his own, he straightened his shoulders,

"Ok.. Do you think he deserves such a barbaric end?"

Needing some sort of shield and fearful he would see something she was not willing to impart, Santana protectively drew her knees closer to her chest, as she contemplated his question.

How could she tell her friend that nearly every day she dreamt of little brothers who would never become men and a sister who never got to put flowers in her hair or attend her first harvest dance?

The fresh faced cherubs plucked from obscurity, lured with promises of a better life and untold riches, only to be used by countless Play House punters before they were drained and then tossed into the gutter to be feasted on by Hounds.

How could she explain that Sebastian had done more than just cause physical suffering? That he had done something much worse. That he had also stolen all those precious moments that made up their futures that they would now never get experience and share with their loved ones?

That because of Sebastian and his cohorts, there were Mothers and Fathers, not a stones throw from were she and her companion sat, that would never see or hear from their children again, living out their days forever wondering.

She wanted to tell him how every time she thought of her Maker, that she would be reminded of every slight and every foul act she had committed at his command, how her heart would harden and her breast would ache with rage.

That the thought of Sebastian being granted any sort of leniency only fed fuel to her anger.

That if Sebastian experienced just a fraction of what he had inflicted upon others, it would feel like some sort of recompense. She muttered, darkly,

"He's an animal and I hope he gets what's coming to him."

Kurt's nostrils flared in disgust.

"What?" Santana continued, sharply, "Do you think he ought to be set free with a pat on the back and a 'I'm sorry old chum, its just a minor misunderstanding. Here have a glass of virgins finest and be on your merry way."

The russet haired man began absently picking at his nails as he countered,

"On the contrary Miss Lopez. What he has done is unforgivable and I believe he should pay the ultimate price for his crimes. I just don't think that it ought to be in the fashion that is planned."

"What kind of vampire are you?" She asked, incredously,

His voice took on a steely tone,

"Do not for one second paint us all with the same brush. I understand that your experiences have brought you to such misguided conclusions but I assure you, not all of us take pleasure is such things."

Santana scoffed in reply.

It seemed to only irritate the notary further. He announced.

"I, like you, was turned against my will by someone who thought it would be quite entertaining." He lapsed into silence for a moment. Santana caught the myriad of emotions flicker across his face. He continued, "I have learned that it is not how you came into being or your green years that define you, but it is how you choose to live your life after, that matters."

Santana was taken aback by Kurt's sudden revelation.

"Why are you telling me this?"

His expression softened,

"Because, Santana, it is quite evident that you are on the brink of tearing yourself apart and I'm hoping that it will help you understand that there are many different ways that you can live with this…"

"Blood Curse!" Santana harshly interjected,

With a slight raise of his eyebrows and touching the lock of hair at his forehead, the ex prince pressed on,

"Blood Curse, as you call it. Here's something I have come firmly to believe. As predators, it is in our nature to hunt and feed. To deny ourselves only serves to drive us mad, something I am told you are keenly aware of, but it is how that nature is nurtured that makes the difference. Of course, personality comes into it. Do you understand?"

Santana shook her head in reply,

"Ok.. " Kurt continued, "Take your beloved, Brittany, for instance; she has been brought up in a loving environment by a caring Dam who took her responsibilities very seriously. Charlotte made sure that Brittany never lacked for anything. She was never starved or put in a position that would make her feel ashamed about what she had become and because of that, Brittany has never outwardly displayed any behaviour to suggest she has any issues with the nature of her existence. That is not to say that she never tried to run riot, of course she did, but she was schooled and disciplined from the start."

Santana's features darkened at the thought of anyone causing her lover any harm. Catching her expression Kurt rushed to reassure her,

"Not like that. She was disciplined out of love and protection. It is imperative that a youngling knows where the line is and that to cross it brings dire consequences. Sebastian abused his position and I am truly sorry for everything you have gone through because of it.

Please understand that creating an offspring is supposed to be a joyous occasion, like bringing a new born babe into a family. A Maker is meant to care for their youngling, as they would themselves. They are meant to guide them on their journey from human to the undead and give them the tools to survive. An offspring is meant to be cherished, not used as some sort of plaything. It vexes me that you were not given that courtesy."

Getting to his feet, he wiped the dirt from the seat of his trousers and straightened out the tails of his jacket as another round of church bells peeled out into the night. Looking up at him, she inquired, shyly,

"Have you ever… You know?"

Offering out his hand, he gasped,

"Good Methuselah, no. I don't think I am quite prepared for a task of that magnitude, but if I had to do it out of necessity, then who knows? Thankfully the situation has never arisen."

Taking his delicate hand, she was surprised to find that it was soft but his grip was firm and stronger than his slight frame led her to imagine. He pulled her to her feet. He brought her hand to loop through his elbow and rest upon his forearm. She allowed him to lead the way back up over the hazardous tiles, asking,

"What about Luce?"

Kurt tittered, giving her hand a light pat, answering without malice,

"Lucinda is entirely too selfish to consider such a thing. She claims it would interfere with her Justice Keeper duties. And we both know how seriously she takes those."

Santana let out small chuckle. Coming to a knee high wall, Kurt hopped over neatly, turning to wait for her. As she went to put her foot on the lip, she stumbled. Her companion caught her gently by the waist, lifting her over the wall as if she was as light as a kitten.

"Thankyou." She breathed as he lowered back down to the ground,

"Are you ok?"

"I just lost my footing." She waved him away, to hide her embarrassment.

She was supposed to be a vampire, graceful and agile, like Lucinda and Brittany. Instead she felt like a bull amongst ballerinas.

She would never make a Justice Keeper. She would probably turn to dust on her first job.

Kurt's worried voice, snapped her out of her thoughts,

"Santana! I was saying that when we get back to Zurich, we are to begin your education."

She blinked, shaking her head to rid herself of the slightly fuzzy feeling that was slowly encroaching up the back of her neck,

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't hear you. Did you say vampire school?"

She suddenly felt giddy and let out a loud belly laugh at how ridiculous it all seemed as visions of rows of vampires, heads bent, quills hurriedly scratching over parchment as they wrote out the answers to questions that consisted of DL + V = A! flittered across her mind.

Kurt narrowed his eyes, putting his hand to her brow out of habit. Mumbling thoughtfully,

"Maybe we ought to get you something to drink? When was the last time you fed?"

Her stomach rumbled and her throat became parchment dry. The beast within her growled and shook against its bars.

A hunt!

Yes, it was exactly what she needed to clear her head.

How she would love to open a sweet and tender neck, the warm, sumptuous, crimson liquid coating her throat and smearing her face. The loud thump of a heart beat in her ears, timing perfectly with her drafts, becoming quieter until it ceased, ending in the softest gasp, like the last note of aria.

She tugged excitedly on Kurt's arm, bouncing in childlike glee,

"Yes! Lets!" She yanked a little harder, impatiently garbling. "Come on, or all the best will be gone."

Almost dragging him behind her, she covered the rooftop in huge strides, nearly tearing the door from its hinges. Santana quickly ushered him inside.

Kurt hovered at the top of the staircase indecisively. She mentioned for him to follow as she began to hurriedly descend the stairs. Her mouth began to water as she thought of all the different types of juicy morsels she could sample. She would be particularly partial to an ebony skinned boy fresh from the boats, his body lean and muscles hard from running free upon the plains. She loved the way they always babbled in some strange tongue before succumbing.

Or maybe she would choose a sweet natured blonde girl, waiting for that moment when blue eyes blew wide with fear and lack of understanding, as she soothed her simpering.

Santana could hear Kurt's footsteps behind her, struggling to keep up. As she barrelled out of the archway into the empty corridor, her leg gave way. She frantically scrabbled to keep herself upright, paying no heed to the layer of dust that now mottled the edges of her scarlet dress in grey as she pressed on.

"COME TO ME." Came the command.

She called out, desperately

"I'm coming!"

Somewhere behind her she could hear muffled shouts and yells.

Ignoring them, she burst through the door onto the open veranda that looked down into the Play House courtyard.

An agonised shriek sounded in her ears and her world turned black.

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**:O ooooo guys , what could be going on? .. let me know what you think **

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	44. Chapter 44

Hey Ladies and Gents. First things first .. A huge hug to the fandom. I know some of us have felt the passing of Cory rather keenly.

A talent taken from the world before his time.

Hopefully he will find the peace he was unable to find. His family and friends will be in my prayers.

R.I.P Cory.

On another note, to the Guests that reviewed or mailed asking if Quinntana is endgame. Am sorry but this is a Brittana fic. When tagging the fiction I put Britt, San and Q because they are in it. I didn't realise that it would mislead some of you. Again I apologise for the unintentional deception.

I wont be offended if you unfollow.

I am also sorry that it has taken me a while to update, but I really struggled with this chap, I kinda got an horrific case of hitting The Wall .. Also, the weather was gorgeous and I was busy tanning my skinny white arse. Consequently, turns out my back garden has hella WiFi.

**Dedicated to BetTheDuckisInTheHat. **

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VAMP VERSE.

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_The Playhouse. Rome. _

_X_

The main banquet hall was wrapped in a cosy, muted quiet, broken only by the soft pad falls of the Versepillis that trailed back and forth making ready for their departure in the morning.

The numerous long dining tables were empty, save for two occupants sat side by side, heads bowed, engrossed in their task. On the table top, oddly shaped miniscule brushes and tools lay strewn amongst brown and white mortars, the contents of which gave off strange smells. Bramble lay dozing under the table, curled at Brittany and Lucinda's feet.

Brittany relaxed a little as she observed Lucinda tinkering with random tools the youngster could not name. The older Vampire had taken it upon herself to teach the youngling the finer points of weapon care and, quite frankly, Brittany was grateful for the distraction.

Unbeknownst to her companions she had been struggling to hold Sebastian in a constant state of flux.

Unlike Lylah, he had, at first, continuously challenged her. It had been tiring and draining, effecting her concentration. Sometimes the youngster would find herself dipping in and out of conversations or in a room with no recollection of how she had got there.

The French girl had voiced her fears of what he might do to Santana and that once she left his mindscape, it might not be that easy to enter a second time. With her Elder's assurances as to his weakness, Brittany had reluctantly removed the parameters she had somehow placed on him. She hadn't realised how much a relief it would be to now longer have that itch she couldn't scratch and for her own headspace to return to normal.

Beside her, the ash blonde Justice Keeper murmured softly, as if she was terrified that the very vibrations of her voice might cause her hand to tremor as she inserted the pin prick point of the tool in her hand between two miniscule cogs.

"Do you see this here?" Lucinda asked, pointing to where the teeth interlocked, "See how they fit perfectly?"

The younger vampire nodded.

"It's really important no dirt or rust gets into them."

Lucinda slowly teased the pin prick along the smooth rounded edges, flicking an almost undetectable red coloured flake, Brittany couldn't tell was dirt or dried blood, out across the table top..

"Gotcha, you damn thing!" Her tutor breathed in triumph

Brittany continued to watch fascinated as Lucinda selected the tiniest brush the youngster had ever seen. She dipped the edge in one of the many mortars, wiping the excess on the lip of the stone bowl. Lovingly, Lucinda began to delicately apply the lubrication over the gears, continuing to murmur, almost as if to herself,

"You have to be really gentle. The mechanism is delicate and can easily be knocked out of alignment. Too much oil can cause it to stick. Too little, can cause it to jam."

The youngling rubbed her temples to alleviate the tightness that had been creeping upon her since they had started working on the gauntlets. Maybe being so close to the over powering fumes of the oils that burned her nostrils, was giving her a head ache.

She gave a little shake of her head to clear it.

Hunched over, her eyes never leaving her gauntlet, Lucinda reached out over the table, absently searching. Brittany pressed a scrap of yellow cloth into her hand.

"Thanks." Lucinda mumbled.

Brittany chuckled good naturedly,

"You really do take this seriously."

Lucinda looked up, her brow furrowed and her lips set in a serious line, stating gravely,

"Brittany, the care of your gauntlets can be a matter of life or death. The last thing you want in close combat is your secondary weapon to fail."

"Lucinda! "Brittany teased, "There is no way you only carry two weapons. I've seen you!"

"Shut up!" The Justice Keeper chided, with a small smirk, "I'm trying to teach you something here."

"I bet on you right now, you have," Brittany punctuated the sentence, counting off on her tapered fingers, " a stake, a dagger stashed some where AND at least two hornets."

"In a dress?" Lucinda challenged quirking an eyebrow.

"Especially in a dress."

"You're learning" Lucinda's grin grew wider as she ruffled Brittany's hair. "What's our motto?"

"Ut tenuis unus Dubois est ut tenuis totus!" The youngling recited, hesitantly,

"Not the House motto. The other one."

Crinkling her brow, Brittany took a moment to think of all the new rules her friend had imparted in the last few days. Grinning, she added, brightly,

"Always be prepared!"

Patting her on the shoulder, her tutor exclaimed,

"That's the one!"

Lucinda returned to what she was doing, drawing the smooth cloth along the almost thread thin wires. Wrapping the cloth round her little finger, she very lightly mopped up the excess oil. The whole set shone, pristine.

The tightness in Brittany's temples began to turn into a dull throb, ignoring it, she tried to focus as Lucinda tested the tension with her pointer finger., cocking her head as if listening for something.

Lucinda held the gauntlet up to the light, turning it this way and that. Satisfied, she teased the stake back into it's snug, until she heard the tell tale click. Leaving the leather flap open so the youngster could see the inner workings, she strapped it to her wrist.

Crooking her finger, she beckoned Brittany closer, so they were sat shoulder to shoulder. Holding up her wrist between their heads, Lucinda let it hang.

Brittany waited, confused as to what her companion was doing.

Suddenly, she felt a quick whoosh of air past her ear and the silver point appeared out of the corner of her eye. Jumping back further along the bench in surprise, she exclaimed,

"Jesus, Lucinda!"

"Did you hear it?" Lucinda asked, bouncing excitedly on the bench, the joy dancing in her eyes like a child on Christmas morning.

"You scared the hell out of me!"

Ignoring her blood niece's shock, she repeated,

"But did you hear it?"

"No!"

With a smug smirk, her fangs glistening in the lantern light, Lucinda exclaimed,

"Exactly!"

Deftly re-sheathing the stake, the senior Justice Keeper placed it on the table, holding out her other hand,

"Right! Let's have a look at yours shall we?."

The youngster handed them over and waited with bated breath as the other girl began to inspect them, turning them this and that. She gave Brittany an encouraging smile.

"I'm impressed. You did good greenhorn."

Brittany beamed with pride. She had painstakingly linseeded the leather to keep it supple but not buffed it to a shine. She remembered their self proclaimed weapons expert had pressed home that a shine could be detected by anyone, including humans, and when hiding in the shadows the smallest glint could give away your position.

"Now lets tighten up the wires. The tension of the spring and wiring is what gives it it kick. Its fairly useless against Versipellis but Mystics and our own kind."

As Lucinda's voice washed over her, Brittany's head began to pound, the walls of the banquet hall pulsing and swelling in time with the thump. She had felt this once before, the sucking sensation that heralded she was about to be pulled _elsewhere._

Something was very, very wrong.

She was suddenly gripped by an overwhelming need to find Santana

Jumping up, she shrugged herself into her waistcoat, startling Bramble in the process. Lucinda looked up at the sudden movement.

"What's the matter?"

Swinging her leg over the bench, Brittany, hastily replied,

"I'm sorry. I have to go."

Taking off across the hall at breakneck speed, she ignored Lucinda's shouts as she clattered through the door and out into the corridor.

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Careening round the corner and narrowly missing a bunch of thralls who moaned in alarm as she sped past, Brittany's feet skittered over the flag stones as she burst into the courtyard of the Play House.

In the middle stood the ominous torture device she knew only too well. She felt a small twinge of sympathy for its victim, strapped up, arms and legs viciously splayed, red criss-crossed welts standing out garishly against the plae flesh of his back.

Further over, Holly paced back and forth, her black skirts sweeping behind her as she lectured a sullen faced Loren. Finally, Brittany's eyes landed on a lounge sofa set off to one side and her stomach knotted with dread.

Kurt, his features pinched with worry, cradled the prone form of Santana in his arms. She lay curled in a ball, her head resting on the notary's lap whilst Charlotte hovered like a mother hen and Mako

As if sensing her presence, all the occupants of the courtyard turned to look at her. A tense hush fell across the yard.

Behind her she heard Lucinda mutter,

"This does not look good."

The grim look on her Elders did not elude her as she steadily approached. Ignoring the ice cold tendrils of panic that coursed through her veins, she knelt down beside the Mystic, watching as his gnarled, paper dry hands flittered across Santana's body.

Her lover's face was a mask of agony, her eyes scrunched closed. Her fists clenched so tight the caramel of her skin were white at the knuckles, drops of blood trickled down her taunt wrists staining the upholstery beneath. Occasionally, she twitched or shuddered as Kurt attempted to sooth her.

Brittany reached out brushing a strand of raven hair out of her face tucking it behind a tiny ear. She lightly brushed the pad of her thumb over the apple of Santana's cheek.

"Songbird?" She murmured,

Santana let out a pained whimper in reply.

It struck Brittany odd how she had never noticed just how small Santana really was. In her mind Santana was larger than life, full of fire and defiance. Seeing her like this, fragile and as weak as a kitten, terrified the youngling and caused her heart to clench.

Finishing his examination, the wiry old man beside her scratched his head, sending up a flurry of white flakes as he announced in his Scottish brog,

"It isn't physical as far as I can see. The lass be having a demon in her noggin."

Continuing to watch the internal struggle play out across Santana's features, Brittany was vaguely aware of the Mystic getting to his feet and Charlotte thanking him.

In another life people had called Brittany a simpleton and a dullard, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

She had warned them that something like this might happen and they had ignored her.

Stupidly, she had believed their assurances and trusted them with the most precious thing in the world.

She felt her Dam lay a light hand on her shoulder.

"Little one." She began.

Whirling round, Brittany shoved her Mistress from her, her accusation ringing off the walls of the yard,,

"You said this wouldn't happen!"

Charlotte recoiled from the youngster's sudden wrath and Brittany caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. Turning to face the rest of them, Brittany continued,

"You promised!"

Standing with her hands on her hips, scowling, Holly stated,

"It shouldn't have but _somebody_ thought it would be a great idea to feed him."

"Who the hell did that?" Lucinda piped up.

Shifting her shoulders uncomfortably, Loren ducked her head, sheepishly admitting,

"Me"

Brittany went to take a step forward only to find Lucinda moving in a blur, ramming the Versipellis full force in the chest with the heels of her hands, screaming,

"You stupid bitch!"

Belying her size, Loren flipped with grace, landing on all fours. Curling her lip and baring her fangs, she snarled,

"He was unconscious, what else was I supposed to do."

Lucinda approached her, hissing,

"Follow orders, like a good little doggy!"

The Justice Keeper squared up to the large girl, looking tiny in comparison. Towering over the vampire, Loren growled.

"Watch your mouth, Ive eaten bigger things than you for breakfast"

Refusing to back down, Lucinda replied icily,

"You look like you've eaten a lot of things!" She paused. Lacing her voice with malice, she spat, "Mutt!"

Loren's face turned purple and her bunched muscles rippled. Roaring, she launched herself towards Lucinda only to have the china doll blond rush to meet her.

The yard descending into chaos, as Versipellis and Vampire grappled in a flurry of feet, claws and fists. Babel and Holly shouted and yelled as they struggled to pull them apart, still swiping and screaming obscenities at each other.

In the midst's of it all a high pitched giggle caught Brittany's attention. The rest of the yard fell away into the back ground as Brittany's eyes landed on Sebastian, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

Clearing the space between them, she gripped him roughly by the throat, her fingers digging into his soft flesh demanding,

"Release her!."

Sebastian continued to chuckle, the sound came out as a gurgle, spraying bright red blood down his chin.

Brittany squeezed, feeling his windpipe buckle slightly in her grasp. His bloodshot eyes glinted with malice. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth turned up as if they had been screwed tight, revealing his red coloured fangs and giving his face a manic quality.

Even under the extreme pressure, he managed to rasp cavalierly ,

"No, I don't think I will!"

Loosening her grip slightly, Brittany steeled herself. As she had come to know the slippery weasel, she knew gaining entry into his inner mindscape and staying there would be the hard part.

Closing her eyes, she took a huge gulp of useless air finding the action calming as she tried to remember how she had managed it the last time.

When she had first come across Sebastian, she had caught him unawares and had barged into his inner most thoughts and bent him to her will before he had anytime to gather himself.

If she could some how recreate the frame of mind she was in when she had first commanded him then maybe she would be able to gain the information they needed and then have done with him once and for all.

She tuned out the back drop of everything in the square, concentrating on all the hurt Santana had received at this animal's hands. She thought of those that they had lost senselessly, corralling all her rage and frustration.

Opening her eyes a sliver, she found Sebastian watching her with an almost animal curiosity. Bowing her head to avoid his gaze, she reached out with the feelers of her mind, gently probing.

There was a narrow pathway. Seizing it, she forced it open

Feeling herself leave the safety of her own thoughts, she careened down the conduit, landing in in something sticky and surrounded by murky darkness.

Every mindscape presented itself uniquely, tailored and created by the individual, a representation of how they imagined themselves or for those of a weaker mental nature, a jumble of pictures and memories stacked upon each other.

Usually they were quite simplistic and the person didn't realise that she was there. Some were heavily fortified, closed off from any outside influence, curled up in on themselves. Those individuals tended to struggle and attack her.

Others lay out before her, open and inviting and she would meander, taking her time observing every aspect of their lives.

Once whilst in Paris, Brittany had grabbed a simple street vendor. His mind had been a cavernous library and he had presented himself, dressed as a scholar, pacing and reading aloud from a book in his hands.

At the centre of the library, on an illuminated lectern lay a huge leather bound tome. When the street vending scholar had spied Brittany, he didn't resist or fly into a rage at her intrusion, he had simply inclined his head and returned to his pacing.

When Brittany had cracked open the leather, the pictures on the page moved and the words had risen up in sounds, whispering and fluttering around her like butterflies in a forest glade. All it had taken to change his thoughts was a quill and a few choice words written upon the parchment.

To this day, she classed it as one of the most beautiful and amazing experiences.

Lylah's mind had presented itself as a myriad of subterranean archways and aqueducts covered in filth and grime. Brittany had heard creatures scuttling out of her way as she had wandered through them. Stagnant pools reflected the images of the girl's transgressions, repeating on a loop.

The stink of the place and what she witnessed had turned the blond girl's stomach and at one particular image she had vomited.

Some of the archways had been reformed with different types of stone giving the whole place the feel of a decrepit patchwork.

Somebody had been here before the novice Justice Keeper, breaking Lylah over and over. The red head had tried to fix herself but at some point had given up.

Lylah hadn't even attempted to hide from her. In fact the red head had shadowed her through the archways and recesses, appearing as a bedraggled teenage waif like spectre, her dress in tatters and feet and lower legs black from travelling the excrement covered walkways.

The russet haired vampire had lost herself in the pain and hurt that she had caused, that or she just didn't care anymore. She had been malleable like soft clay and it hadn't taken much for Brittany to refashion her thought process.

As Brittany left the red head to snuffle like the rodent she deserved to be, she had dashed the masonry to smithereens. As she had destroyed all in her path, she had seen a memory of an infant Lylah baking pies with her mother. It had been thin and grainy from lack of use.

A memory on the verge of being forgotten.

Brittany had left the memory intact, not having the heart to erase it.

If Lylah ever managed to regain her faculties, she would have something good to remember.

However, Sebastian's mind was nothing like she had ever witnessed. It had a light shimmering film, like a protecting force field surrounding a distorted grand looking mansion in the distance. It crackled and sparked, tendrils of electricity striking and scorching the surrounding earth.

The place was like a fortress.

The ground beneath her feet, swirled and changed. One moment she was stood on solid flagstones, the next she was ankle deep in a mire.

Trudging through the dirt that sucked at her boots, she muttered darkly under her breath, cautiously navigating the perimeter, searching for a point of weakness. The air was stifling and claustrophobic, the heat fraying Brittany's already delicate temper.

There came an almighty crack followed by a boom and the ground before her exploded sending up sprays of dirt. Brittany lost her footing, harshly landing against the light film.

It seemed to bend slightly before it pulsed, electrocuting her and blasting her back out into the darkness.

Brittany slammed back into her own body. Her limbs trembled and she was convinced she could smell singed hair.

In front of her, Sebastian cackled.

Howling in frustration, she punched him repeatedly in the face, enjoying how his bones shattered beneath her knuckles.

A piercing shriek rang out across the yard, chilling Brittany to the bone.

Even with a broken face Sebastian began to giggle hysterically. Leaning into her grip, he hissed mockingly,

"Dance monkey! Dance!"

She let go of him as if she had been burned.

His head lolled forward uselessly and his shoulders shook as he continued to guffaw.

Taking a few steps back, she surveyed the yard, struggling to control her emotions.

Santana lay in Kurt's arms, her body stiff as board as her toes scrabbled to find purchase in the soft cushioning.

Why had she gone against her better judgement and released him.

She shook herself. This was no time to feel sorry for herself; there would be time for that later. Pushing back the worry and the guilt, she focused.

If she could just find the place were he controlled her, Santana would be free

She could do this. She couldn't fail Santana, not this time.

Determined and resolute, Brittany gathered herself.

Eerily calm, she gripped Sebastian's jaw, stating coldly.

"I tried being nice. Now I'm going to make you rue the day you where born!"

She smelt the hint of fear as he replied with false bravado.

"Do your worst!"

Fashioning her anger in to a sharp point, she grinned evilly.

"I was hoping you would say something like that."

She caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes as he began to struggle weakly against his restraints, grunting with the effort.

He let out a low groan as Brittany unleashed her weapon and obliterated his defences.

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**Well , let me know what you think so far guys. I kinda wanted to show you what Britt see's when she enters a mindscape. **


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